IkiteYuku
by moroitsubasa
Summary: Going on Living. Continued from A Day in the Life, everything is finally settling down months from where we left off, but neither people nor circumstances will stay unchanged for long. Notes, etc. within. AU, Continuation
1. Week One, Wednesday: Returning

Title: Ikite-Yuku [生きてゆく] (translated as: Going on Living)

Date Published: 4th of April, 2009

Summary: (Sequel to _A Day in the Life_) Some months had passed since things stirred themselves up last, and things are finally returning to normal, but when people and the circumstances around the change, life cannot stay stagnant for long.

Tags: AU, Continued Sequel, OT, Drama, Slice of Life

Warnings: Sequel, some cursing, possible mature situations and violence, some OCs, general storyline not aimed for children, possible long waits between chapters, complete and total non-sense, and pointless author's rants.

Notes: I just wnated to let you know that, no, I did not just copy-paste some random tid-bit in the middle of the chapter, and that one of the OCs is actually someone you've met story-wise. None of the OCs are going to be highly significant, I just needed some filler characters to stick in the blank. Just some bit of reference from the previous Arc: Things said in English will be **bolded**, the story is set in Tokyo, Krad is a foreigner, Kosuke is in South America, Dark has fled town, and Satoshi is no longer Kei Hiwatari's son.

Disclaimer: If I owned DNAngel, we'd've already found out what Saga's and Funabashi's roles are from way back in the _Fredert_ Arc.

A/N: The long awaited sequel has arrived! -insert fanfare and confetti here-

Ah, was it really long-awaited? Maybe it wasn't so long a wait. I should've held out lounger. I don't even like the title............

Meh. Please don't anticipate quick updates, as my situation has not changed from the last time. You may have noticed that the link to my blog actually works now, so any of you who are actually interested in hearing may see it, and it's out of the way for those who don't care. I'm holding financially and still driving myself into the ground, so same-old, same-old.

I do not really have anything down after this, except for one section of the next chapter, and the epilogue. Yes, the epilogue to this entire arc. That is how I roll.

I'm so tired....

As noted above, you may see the chapter take a sharp turn to Confused Reader Land. Do not fear, for I shall not lead you astray (any longer than it amuses me to do so). You may recognise one of the OCs. Feel free to guess who and all that, and I may just tell you if you are right, though I feel I've dropped many, many clues, and that I'm being too obvious. I've felt that way before and confused people straight out of readership with it before, too.

Oh well.

I'm almost done with the next chapter of _Wisdom_, by the way. I just need to flesh it out......... somehow.

Well, enjoy the first chapter of the second arc!

* * *

It was a quiet day that day, even for him. Every day was quiet around this time, but today was abnormally so as he sat on the edge of his old bed, staring at nothing but a curious stain on the wall he had never quite figured out in all the time he had been there. Now that it didn't matter anymore, he wanted all the more to figure out what it may have resembled.

He never was very good at abstract thinking, and not a thing had come to his mind when the woman he was so used to seeing stepped into his functionally empty room, the clacking sound of her heels echoing more than they ever had.

"Your ride is here." The cheer was gone from her voice, and he wondered if she really was so sad to see him go.

He sat on the bed a moment longer, hesitating even though there was nothing left to hesitate about. All the necessary decisions were made weeks ago. All he had to do now was get up and go. He didn't even need to pack; he had so little it had been done for him and his single bag had been sent ahead. "Thank you." She stepped to the side of the door, remaining more professional than she had been since he had arrived in the first place. "That will be all."

He left her behind, having no further use for her. She was instrumental in a place like this, but he was moving on. All the necessary things had been accomplished in the required time frame, and there was no further reason to be held there. In all honesty, he didn't feel as if he had to be there at all, but laws and concerned friends had forced his hand. He found himself not resenting any of it at all. If nothing else, he had taken the time to learn from his mistake and focus on how not to make it again.

That wasn't exactly the point of his "imprisonment", but it satisfied him all the same.

Satoshi _Hikari_ pushed beyond the doors that lead him to freedom and immediately lifted his arm to shield his eyes from the searing light. It had been so long since he had been out in the sun that his eyes had forgotten its brightness and took longer than he would've liked to adjust. He squinted to make out the form of the car idling in the pick up lane and made his way over with all his grace and dignity.

He slid into the back seat where it was thankfully much dimmer, paying no attention to the driver, nor did he look back to see his self-appointed nurse step out of the rehabilitation center to bid him good-bye. "The train station, please."

* * *

"...however, if you are referring to more than one object or person, the pronoun becomes **they** and the verb must be **are**, and all related rules are applied."

Daisuke tried his hardest not to sigh in boredom at the topic that had been covered most thoroughly in the lessons from last semester.

"Remember from yesterday's lesson that **you** always uses **are**."

English class had gotten so boring ever since he had become good friends with Krad and Satoshi. If he ever wanted to know any more about English, he could ask them and probably get better answers than his Japanese professor was giving.

"Please note that **you** can be singular or plural—and that will be on the test—though the singular form is what most people will assume."

He knew that, and just wanted the teacher to get to the point already.

"To avoid this, most people will deviate and say **you all** or less formally **you guys** or the regional **y'all**."

Daisuke distractedly jotted down **y-a-w-l**, reminding himself to ask Krad about that one later.

"Many branch away from pronouns and use the title of the group the people they are referring to belong in, such as a company or class name, or just **everyone**."

Ok, even Daisuke knew that last example wasn't true. It didn't even sound plausible, and yet when he glanced down at his neighbor's notes, there was _**everyone**_, scrawled in sloppy English letters.

"Actually, _sensei_," a new voice chimed in and all heads turned to the classroom door in various emotions varying from offhand curiosity to outright shock—and very few people who recognized the voice leaned toward the former. "I don't believe it is common English practice to use regular nouns as a substitute for **you**."

Silence reigned throughout the classroom only slightly softened by the drowned-out echo from a music class around the corner and down the hall as every eye focused on Satoshi in the front door, looking for all the world the same as he had the last time most had seen him. It was almost as if he were a ghost, coming and going as he pleased, changeless in the face of time.

Daisuke knew better. "Hiwatari-kun, you're late for class."

Satoshi silently thanked Daisuke for killing the oppressive silence. "My apologies; I underestimated the delay my train would have this morning. Please excuse my tardiness." The teacher didn't seem to be waking from his stupor any time soon, so Satoshi brisked ahead of him to take his usual seat, which had been left untouched, if only to retain a semblance of sameness by tacit agreement of the entire class. Even the pens beneath the cover were precisely how he had left them before.

The teacher seemed to pop out of his momentary daze, muttering an acknowledgement of both Satoshi and his point before continuing in his slightly flawed lecture Satoshi planned on paying no attention to.

And by how quickly a note was passed to him, neither did Daisuke.

_Welcome back, Hiwatari-kun. Everyone thought you transferred out. Have they let you out for good?_

Satoshi shook his head, writing something down, and passing the note to the girl who had passed it to him. He and Daisuke were sat too far apart to just converse. Back came his reply, with Daisuke's below it.

_Thank you for telling me. I still have to go to weekly counseling for a while. Pay attention in class._

_I already know all this, though. _

Satoshi read over the note and sent Daisuke a look that reinforced his earlier command and responded to the note no further. Instead, he took the time to look around and determine if anything had changed, and other than the fact that Ritsuko had moved closer to Risa and that Michiko was in her old spot, there wasn't anything different aside from small changes such as hair and natural body changes. When the bell rang, Daisuke was quick to bound up to Satoshi's desk before he could be overwhelmed by curious classmates.

"Hey, was _sensei_ right about **yawl**?"

Satoshi frowned, hearing the misunderstanding of the term in the pronunciation and wondered why the teacher felt compelled to ruin everyone's meager grasp of the English language. "It's **y'all**, Niwa. Like **you all**, but said quickly. And, yes, some people say it, but it's not proper English, and I don't want to hear you say it."

"Alright," having settled that curiosity, Daisuke switched subjects. "Hey which train did you take, anyway?"

"I took the Keiyō to Tōkyō Station, then the Maru-no-Uchi to Shinjuku, then the Yama-no-Te to Ikebukuro, then the Seibu-Ikebukuro to Nerima, and the Ōedo to Toshimaen."

"Are you serious?" Judging by Daisuke's stare, Satoshi could've sprouted a third eye. "No wonder you were so late! Why'd you take the Maru-no-Uchi all the way around? That must've taken forever, not to mention how much it had to cost!"

"I'm new to the morning commute thing, Niwa." Satoshi only realized his error after boarding the subway, realizing that he could've just taken the Yama-no-Te all the way around. "I'll be coming from home tomorrow, so I'll find a better route there."

"Asagaya, right?" Satoshi nodded. "Take the Chū-Ō from Asagaya to Higashi-Nakano and transfer to the Ōedo line and you can take that all the way up to Toshimaen. It'll be cramped, but you won't be late and it'll cost less. And if you ever have to come straight from there again, take the Chū-Ō Rapid from Tōkyō to Shinjuku, then the normal Chū-Ō to Higashi-Nakano. By the way, did you get a commuter pass, yet?"

Satoshi was unfazed by the quick subject change coupled with the suggested route. "Yes, Niwa" The math teacher walked in at that moment and instead of returning to his seat, Daisuke plopped down in Takeshi's desk on the other side of Satoshi. The journalist was ditching this morning anyway.

"Good, it'll be cheaper that way."

It was the last said between either of them before the math teacher called the class to order.

* * *

"Ev'ryone though'chu were dead," Saga stated around his everything-on-it sandwich, content to use Funabashi as a wall as he reclined comfortably.

"Niwa said everyone thought I transferred," Satoshi muttered, not interested in conversing with Keiji. Krad and Daisuke both proceeded to ignore the conversation, more interested in trading various items in their lunches, more for Daisuke's benefit than for Krad's.

"They did, but ev'ryone with half a brain knew ya were dead."

"I'm not dead." Satoshi was getting aggravated, both at Saga's stupid argument and the high-and-mighty tone he was taking.

"But ev'ryone though'chu were."

"Saga," Satoshi deadpanned, more than finished with arguing with the idiot and ready to begin eating, "I am not, nor do I plan on becoming dead any time soon."

Saga let a smug grin spread across his face. That was all he wanted to know.

"Hey, Satoshi-kun," Satoshi moved his attention to Daisuke, still unable to take the first bite out of his lunch, believing it impolite to eat and hold a conversation at the same time. "Is it ok that I called you Hiwatari-kun in class?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Thank you." Of course, no one in class knew anything about what had happened, be it the incident that started his long string of absence or the following adoption into Krad's family and subsequent name change. Since Satoshi had absolutely no intention of explaining any of it to his nosy classmates, he would just live with being referred to by the wrong name in school.

Daisuke understood completely. "Ok. What do you want me to call you outside of class?"

"I don't really care." Satoshi assumed the conversation was over and finally took the first bite out of his lunch and was content to remark in his own mind that it was delicious.

* * *

At the end of class, Niwa was promptly abducted by Saehara (who had returned to take a Geography Test and was caught before being able to leave again), leaving Satoshi completely vulnerable to any and all forms or classmate-based attacks. Luckily, instead of them coming all at once and overwhelming him, they all seemed eager to leave the classroom to study for the Pre-Calculus midterm the next day. All the students that is, but one.

"Hiwatari-kun?" Satoshi consciously kept himself from rolling his eyes before turning from placing his things in his bag. Standing there was one Risa Harada, quiet, curious, and slightly shy. "I thought you had transferred out."

"The lessons there were behind my current level, and they did not allow grade-skipping." It was a lame excuse, but it was the only one he had prepared.

She stood there silently, shifting as if nervous, and Satoshi out of politeness, stayed and waited her out. She was irritating, yes, but that was no excuse to walk out when she didn't seem to be finished with the conversation. "You never answered me, you know."

"Answered what?" Satoshi slung his backpack over his shoulder, trying to convey that he rather wanted to leave.

Risa looked directly at him with those timid rabbit eyes of hers. "The day the window broke, I asked you how you got hurt, but you didn't tell me."

Satoshi shifted his weight uncomfortably. This was not something he wanted to discuss with her. "I told you I fell."

"You didn't fall."

Satoshi ran a hand through his hair with a quiet sigh. He hated admitting to small weaknesses, especially in front of people who had yet to gain his trust, and there were enough of both that he managed to keep himself rather secretive. He liked that. He liked it a lot.

What he didn't like was this damn woman's intuition Risa seemed to have developed, and how bad he felt lying to her.

"Look, it's taken care of, so you don't have to be worried, alright?" He avoided her eyes, and she looked away as well. Satoshi felt so surreal, he wondered if he had dozed off at his desk and was dreaming the conversation. "I've taken steps to ensure it will not happen again."

Risa grinned and perked up a bit. "Ok." She turned and practically skipped to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

Satoshi nodded, still unable to shake the surreal feeling. "Yeah. You'll see me tomorrow." Then Risa was gone and Satoshi was left standing in the classroom alone until he forced himself to realise he would not be waking any time soon. He didn't know how he felt about that, so he stood there, thinking about how he felt about things until he frustrated himself enough to send himself storming out of the classroom.

If nothing else, he could subtly make fun of Saga or Niwa to improve his mood.

Assuming he could find either or them.

* * *

Tsutomu didn't know how long he had been sitting in the back of that van. It had to have been at least three hours ago that he climbed back into the back seat of the converted delivery van. It wouldn't have mattered if the air hadn't grown stale from the five of them being in that van for so long, a couple smoking and having a great time, without being able to roll down the windows (Michikawa Fusao, who preferred to be called Mifu, said that we was planning on getting them fixed later).

Mifu was the largest of the group, both from height and muscle, with hair that frizzed out no matter what he did with it. He was generally blunt and got a little rough from time to time, simply left over from growing up with several brothers, but he still managed to intimidate people wherever he went. Mifu was one of those people who could only do one thing at a time, and was clumsy at anything that required steady hands or a great deal of patience. It came out in his driving, and Tsutomu held onto his theory that Mifu had paid someone else to take his driving exam for him.

Up in the front passenger seat—and sleeping—was Suzuki Kenji, with long black hair he kept back in a messy bun or pony tail most of the time. He was built long and tall with little body fat to speak of, and barely seemed to speak at all. He was often self-contradicting, with his chain-smoking habit, but absolute refusal to eat anything he deemed to be unhealthy; he had his ears littered with piercings, but insisted on a clean-cut appearance; he insisted that he preferred to be left alone, but showed up to every group outing whether he was informed of it or not. He and Mifu had been switching off driving since they began the trip as the only two with driver's licenses. Everyone felt safer when Kenji drove, even though he had only taken on the shorter legs of the trip, mostly due to Kenji's bad habit of running himself ragged on a regular basis.

In the next row back was Muraishi Ippei, the tacitly agreed upon leader. He had his dark hair bleached almost white and tried to grow a goatee on a regular basis. Tsutomu had always thought of him as a cat. A sly, sneaky ally cat that was pulling the strings behind everything, and he had a feeling everyone knew it. He was manipulative, and occasionally forceful, and yet somehow, he managed to get along well with everyone else, especially when they needed to pull together. Tsutomu didn't know why they fell for it every time, but none of them seemed to mind much, either.

Next to him was the youngest of the group, Nobusaki Yukihiro. He had originally been simply a friend of Ippei that hung around until everyone had gotten to know him better. He turned out to be a great guy, if a little on the weak-willed side, and seemed to get along with everyone by default. Tsutomu didn't know anyone who didn't like Yuki, nor anyone Yuki couldn't be friends with. Tsutomu had also never come across an item of food that Yuki did not find inherently delicious. There were some days when every time he glanced at the kid, he was eating some strange concoction that most of them would have trouble stomaching.

Yamazaki Tsutomu himself was crammed in the back with some of the gear. He had his dark hair cut short for the approach of summer, and unlike Ippei, Tsutomu actually looked good with his goatee that he cared for with every ounce of vanity in his body. Tsutomu was occasionally loud and almost puppy-like when excited, and very quick to lose his temper when he felt things weren't going right. He was picky, and obnoxious, and if he wasn't so likable as often as he was, he probably wouldn't have been able to remain in the group for long. But as he had mentioned before, he had a crazy amount of good luck that followed him everywhere.

Finally, they began to cross into the outer districts of Saitama, and the air started to feel familiar to Tsutomu again. It had only been a few months, but he had missed his dirty city air so much.

The blonde-headed kid in the row in front of him leaned back over the seat, looking up from his video game for the first time in a while. "How does it feel to be back home, Tsutomu?" Yuki asked with his boredom-fuelled curiosity.

"It feels nice," Tsutomu grinned.

Mifu glanced back through the rear-view mirror. "And you're sure this guy you know will help us out?"

"Of course, he's an old friend of mine. You guys need to trust me more." Tsutomu returned his attention to the scenery beyond the window, glad for the first time to be back in Tōkyō.

* * *

By the time Satoshi got home, he was more than done with the rail system in general. It was easy when he lived in Hikarigaoka; he just took the subway a few stations to the end of the line. Now he had to take a crowded subway to a busy station and ride the crowded commuter train to his exit. It was exhausting, and a lot of the people on the train smelled.

Well, at least he was home. Him and three others. Krad, Daisuke, and Saga came in behind him, slightly less eager to be home. Of course they were less eager. They were used to this sort of commute by now. No one was in the least bit surprised when Satoshi ignored Higashino's offer to take his bag and, by pure habit, went straight to Krad's room.

Krad shook his head in amusement, deciding that now was not the time to inform his little brother—the thought made his grin stretch a little wider—that he did, indeed have his own room, and that most of his things were already there. He was, however, a little put down when he reached his room and Satoshi was already settled down, studying.

"**What are you doing?**" Behind him, he could hear Saga and Niwa pulling out a game system and debating which one they would play.

"**I missed a lot of studying while I was out. I need to catch up.**" Satoshi's reply was automatic and mechanical.

"**Catch up to who? The college freshmen?**"

"**No, of course not**," the very idea was ridiculous. Why would he need to catch up to college freshmen? Krad was momentarily placated. "**It's the college freshmen who may have caught up to me.**"

In a brilliant display of poise and self-control, Krad removed the book from Satoshi's hands without even bothering to try to read it (the kanji were too difficult), and held it out of reach of his seated brother's grasp. "**You are a Hikari now. You will relax, indulge, and enjoy yourself, or so help me, I will not allow you to study for a month.**"

Toward anyone else, this would have been a gift from the heavens. To Satoshi, it was a minor annoyance he could get around if he chose to, but he preferred to do things in the easiest way possible. "**Alright. How would you like me to enjoy myself?**" he asked with a great deal of sarcasm and exasperation, if only to help get his point across.

"**You'll figure it out.**" Satoshi didn't know if that was a promise or a threat, but he scooted from the table to instead watch Daisuke press one button frantically and repeatedly and somehow manage to beat Saga, who had been boasting earlier that he had mastered all of his character's combos. Apparently, combos meant nothing when the other player was rapidly and repeatedly kicking you in the face.

* * *

Riku only realised she had blacked out when she felt the coach patting her on the back, and it took a few seconds for his words to make sense to her. "Good job, Riku-chan." Good job? "You've really improved."

Oh, right. Time trials. "Thank you coach." She had been racing her team during time trials. What had she placed? Was she first? She felt like she had been first.

Congratulations came from her teammates in quick succession, and slowly, Riku's breathing pattern returned to normal.

It definitely felt like she had placed first.

"Thanks everyone."

* * *

Keiji only had to wait about half a minute outside before his ride arrived and Funabashi exited from the rear to open the door. Saga silently accepted and climbed in, waiting until he was well away from the Hikari residence before nodding at his favorite secretary.

Funabashi took the cue. "No changes. Hiwatari's paperwork is still processing. I estimate two weeks before it can safely become missing. Two attempts occurred toward our dummy network while you were out with zero success."

Saga nodded. "Keep up the good work."

"Yes sir," Funabashi shuffled through a folder. "Also, there was a message left for you from a Mr. Ijiuma." Saga perked up in interest. "It reads: Mister Bear and family."

"Reply with: Lays eggs by the river." Saga grinned. Everything was falling into place. "Also, tell Toriko to have less salmon in her diet."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Satoshi looked over the bedroom from the doorway lazily, exhausted from the day. He wasn't surprised they had prepared a room for him. In all honesty, he was expecting it. What was surprising was how they had managed to acquire all of his belongings from school and from Hiwatari's, though considering what Krad and Saga had done so far, maybe it really wasn't that amazing.

He could find nothing missing, and found several things that must have been recent additions. Most of these things were casual clothing, pictures, and art supplies, all things he noted Krad to have attempted to give him before. Somehow, he didn't mind it so much now. Maybe it was because they were brothers, maybe because he was too tired to object.

Or maybe it was because without them, the room would have felt so empty.

But now was not the time for these thoughts, and Satoshi asked the woman in the hallway to bring him a large garbage bag.

There was a reason some of those things had been left at Hiwatari's in the first place.

* * *

A/N: And there you have it. Satoshi's back in school, Daisuke has mastered the train system, people thought Satoshi had died, Risa is suspicious, there is a mysterious gang of 5 OCs in a van, Krad does not appreciate Satoshi's obsessive study habits, Daisuke is a button-masher, Saga and Funabashi are up to something, and Satoshi would rather throw some pieces of his old life away.

And, yes, there were a lot of dropped hints about everything in there. Particularly, one name in there is "backwards" for who another certain character may be. (Backwards by Japanese _mora_, which is basically syllables, not actual letters). That in and of itself should solve half of it for some people. Please tell me if it's too easy to figure out.

Why do I feel like this is way too short?

Anyway, reviews remind me that I'm supposed to be writing chapters, and give me confidence boosts that people like them, thus make me churn them out faster. Help me to help you! Don't forget to subscribe to this story to receive updates!

I think that's it. Bye-bye.


	2. Week One, Thursday: Communicating

A/N: Anew chapter has appeared! You:

A) Read and review

B) Think the author rights pointless author's notes

C) Chose Pikachu

Ah, I seem to have written more about the OCs again. I can't help it; they're my babies. (Maybe It'd be better if I just maintained a side-story or something along those lines somewhere else so I wouldn't be so tempted to.)

Lately, I have been reading a lot of _Gintama_, so I am sort of tempted to do Gin-chan-esque omakes at the end of the chapters, but maybe that'd be too long and put the Review button too far away. Besides the fact that it feels unoriginal and like I'm ripping the manga-ka off for my own amusement.

Aaanyway, Band of Mysterious OCs (BoMOC?) are now officially only half as mysterious. Is it half? Maybe I stole all the mystery away this time. I think this chapter gives most of it away. Those who read _ADitL_ and remember even the stupid parts might have everything figured out now, like who the OC-that-is-not-really-an-OC is, though maybe you knew that all along. Ha ha ha.

Another no-point author's note for a chapter that is revealing, and yet somehow only taking up space.

(And I promise bare-minimum for OCs next chapter. I will come up with something instead of cheating like this. Really. I promise.)

(although no one really believes me)

* * *

It was dim in here. It always was at this time of day, with only a little bit of sunlight trickling through a high-placed window to shine on the wall, and some light radiating from florescent lighting in the hall, filtering in through the reinforced glass in the door. He thought maybe it was supposed to be relaxing, but in his state of tedium, he was only tired.

"Why don't we try something a little different today, Satoshi-kun?" It was the first thing he'd really heard since he had walked in a little less than five minutes ago. The man was steady, even under his quiet staring, just like he always was. "Let's start with you telling me why you do not wish to speak with me."

Because I am more intelligent than you, was the immediate thought in his mind. His words chose a different path. "You know as well as I do there is nothing wrong with me." The man in the comfortable chair across from him leaned forward in interest. "I can imagine you also would probably like for me to be out of here."

The man smiled. "I do not want you out of here, Satoshi-kun." Liar. "I want you to be well. There is a difference."

There was a difference, but Satoshi didn't care. All he wanted was out. "I told you, there is nothing wrong with me."

"Satoshi-kun," the man seemed to think that repeating his name would somehow make him listen better. Satoshi couldn't listen any better if he tried. "If there was nothing wrong with you, you wouldn't be here in the first place." Satoshi chose not to respond to that. "We won't get anywhere if you never say anything."

Satoshi's gaze switched from the man to the sky beyond the window. "There was nothing wrong with me in the first place, Dr. Isobe." The man in the room had stated several times before that he preferred to be referred to by his first name, Kiyo. Satoshi decided that he didn't intend to become friendly enough with him to warrant the first-name basis. Isobe had given up on forcing the change by now. "I was trapped in a bad situation, and now I am free from it. That is all."

"Would you like to explain to me what this bad situation was—" Isobe crossed his legs the other way "—and how what you did has helped resolve it?"

Satoshi's attentions remained far away from the irritating man in his room. "What time is it now?"

"12:07." Satoshi lazily swept his gaze to Isobe. "We still have quite a while to go." 52 minutes and some-odd seconds, Satoshi automatically calculated in his head. "Why don't we discuss something else? I heard you did extremely well on your exams."

"They were easy."

"That's because you're an extremely intelligent boy, Satoshi-kun."

Satoshi sighed impatiently. "Flattering me will not make me cooperate, Dr. Isobe."

Isobe's smile faded into concern, but his voice continued as light and matter-of-fact as ever: "If you don't speak with me, you will not be allowed to leave."

Satoshi woke.

It was not the slow, gradual waking that he experienced on a regular basis, but an instant realisation that he was aware and that what he had been experiencing a moment prior was nothing more than a fabrication of his subconscious.

More specifically, it was a memory of his time spent in rehabilitation.

As he wondered why he would be dreaming about that and why he awoke from it like one may a nightmare, his mind started to automatically take him down psychologically analyzing paths that told him he either missed therapy or was traumatised by it. But what kind of person actually enjoyed mandatory psychiatric treatment?

On the other hand, there was absolutely nothing remotely traumatising about it, aside from long bouts of boredom and the patronization of some of the staff, but none of those were of any long-lasting significance.

With a great deal of will and self-control, Satoshi rolled over to his other side in one sudden move, forcing his mind to cease its needless workings and allow himself to calm enough to sleep again.

Psyching himself out like that would probably just make him crazy anyway.

* * *

Tsutomu found himself sneaking downstairs well before any of the others planned to wake, just glad that he had been able secure a place to stay the night before. He doubted any of them would have been very amicable after spending the night in that van, and he rather preferred everyone to be in a good mood.

He reached the second story and found it to be completely devoid of signs of life, just as expected. Their host ran a bakery, and had probably risen with the sun that morning, so he simply left out the back door and descended the exterior stairs to where the bakery made up the ground floor.

It was here that he ran into something unexpected. In the back of the building was Mifu, moving a large box that was probably too heavy for their host to move herself. The towering man grunted out a "morning" before maneuvering around Tsutomu.

"Thanks again, Mifu."

Tsutomu recognized that voice. "Morning, Toriko."

Toriko wiped her hands on her apron, not really cleaning them of flour and dough, but at least making the effort. She was plain and approaching middle-age, with a face long and thin like a horse, and dark, wiry hair that she struggled to keep out of the way of her work from time to time. "Good morning, Tsutomu-kun."

Tsutomu leaned against one of the racks with a slightly flirtatious grin spread across his face. "You put Mifu to work?"

Toriko turned her back to him and returned to kneading and shaping the dough. "He was awake, and Masa-kun is taking the day off."

"Ah, is that the kid you're renting the basement out to?" Tsutomu reached for a cooling scone and Toriko smacked his hand with one of the wooden spoons she kept on-hand.

"He's hardly a kid, now." Toriko returned to preparing whatever it was she was going to stick in the oven next. "He's almost as tall as Yasuichi was." Tsutomu remembered Yasuichi as Toriko's husband, who he met only once in passing. The way Toriko spoke made him think his first meeting was the only meeting he'd ever have with the verifiable giant. "By the way, tell Saga to stop using codes with me all the time. I've forgotten what most of them mean."

"Aw, but it's so much fun," Tsutomu whined, almost on principle.

"I mean it." Toriko pointed her mixing spoon at Tsutomu in warning. Hands weren't the only things she hit with it. "Next time he does it, I'm just going to refuse whoever or whatever shows up at my door. Tell him that, Tsutomu-kun." Mifu returned and Toriko asked him to bring a crate of flour in from the storeroom.

Tsutomu frowned and waited for Mifu, still in his half-asleep daze, to stumble out. "Fine."

"Thank you," she shaped the last of the dough and just short of threw the tray into the large oven. "By the way, Nobusaki-kun and Muraishi-kun are still asleep."

Tsutomu gave that a lazy bit of attention, distracting him from trying to pilfer that scone again. "What, is Kenji up?"

"Suzuki-kun is minding the front for me."

Tsutomu laughed as he snuck his breakfast off its tray, making his way toward the back door. "Make sure Yuki and Ippei do their share, too."

"And where are you going?"

Tsutomu stopped in the doorway. "I'm going to see an old friend about a favor."

"No you're not." Toriko threw a green apron at him and crossed her arms. "You're going to mind the store with Suzuki-kun so I don't have to worry about the morning rush." It was times like these he wished Toriko wasn't getting so old; she reminded him of his mother when she did things like scolding him. "Unless you have some other way to pay me back for putting you and your friends up on such short notice." It was a warning just as plain as the slow tapping of the wooden spoon against the counter.

Tsutomu sighed. He hated having to do all the boring things, and he was really hoping to get something done today. "Fine."

"Thanks Tsutomu-kun." The oven dinged and she put her hand under a towel to tend to it. "Help yourself to something in the display case if you're still hungry."

* * *

"Morning, Kenji," Tsutomu greeted, not happy to be minding an empty store while wearing a stupid apron.

"Tsutomu," Kenji greeted in return, sitting on the stool behind the register with a book in hand.

It was too quiet. "Has anyone come?"

"Three people, then you." He turned the page. "You scared them off."

Tsutomu grinned, used to Kenji's odd humor. "Yeah, because I'm the scary one," he flicked one of Kenji's piercings.

Kenji shook his head quickly to relieve the tingling feeling in his ear. "Mind the store?" Tsutomu raised an eyebrow. "I woke up and was sent here."

Tsutomu chuckled, only just then noticing how very not pulled-together Kenji was. His hair was falling out of its bun and his clothes were the same from yesterday, and not exactly fresh anymore. As far as Kenji was concerned, he probably thought he looked like some kind of bum, and the knowledge of it was driving him crazy. "Go ahead, I'll take care of it. You gonna take a smoke while you're out?"

Kenji pressed his eyebrows together, looking up at Tsutomu as he folded his book shut. "Don't tell her. It's her rule."

Tsutomu understood immediately. Of course Toriko didn't want bakery employees smoking at all, least of all anywhere near the shop. "Don't worry about it." It had always amused Tsutomu how much Kenji tried to stick to the rules, even if he thought they were stupid ones.

"Thanks."

* * *

The first thing Saga did when he woke up that morning was check his phone for messages, and he had one, just as he had expected.

_The river is flooded. Ms. Beaver does not wish to speak—Ijiuma_

Saga shook his head, but sent the message: There is no rain upstream. "Ijiuma" would understand.

Funabashi stepped in to make sure he had gotten up and Saga flipped his phone shut. "Sir?"

"Be prepared to report and bring me something to eat." Funabashi gave a short bow out of pure habit and left both the room and his annoyed employer. And, boy, was Saga annoyed. "Ms. Beaver" was his only useful connection in that area of town, and she was the only one to go along with these things on such notice. If he was losing her, he'd have to start networking seriously again.

Ms. Beaver would just have to suck it up until he made some more friends. He punctuated that thought by kicking his stuffed beaver off the bed.

It was aggravating, but not worth his immediate attention. He was more interested in precisely why a picture of a bear had been sent to his phone from an unknown source that morning.

Actually, he knew why it was sent. Someone was tracking him and was not making a secret of it. The why he wanted to know was why they paid attention to that bit of information when there were more exploitable messages sent around the same time.

It was infuriating to think that someone had his codes and that he'd have to make up new ones. He liked his codes and had been using them for a long time, with only his most trusted acquaintances.

Either something had been leaked, or someone was mocking him. Either way, he was not about to allow the situation to escape his control.

* * *

"Mr. Hiwatari," Kei glanced up from the papers strewn about his desk to glare up at the man that had entered his office. At least, it had been an office before. Now it was something of his second home.

Stale and stagnating coffee sat in a mug in the very corner of his desk, which was littered with papers and manilla folders where his computer wasn't taking up space. Remains of take-out sat either in the trash can, or in the small refrigerator he had hidden beneath the desk. A large map of Tokyo covered his East wall, and a map of the Ward of Nerima on the North. The bookshelf that ran along the portion of the South wall not dominated by the window was specially built so it looked deeper then it really was. As it was, the bookshelf could not hold all the books Kei preferred to keep on-hand, and stacks of them were lined up against the walls. Tucked away behind the bookshelf was a cot, hidden to all but those who managed to get that far into the office, and he didn't grant many people that privilege.

The people who were allowed to get that far in usually weren't those like the man before him, who had to give him regular status reports. If it was anything like what Tanaka had reported to him last week, he was going to have that man's job. "Your arrest warrant from Nagoya was from a case that didn't exist, just as you thought, sir."

"Good work, Tanaka." Kei folded his hands in front of his face, observing the young man before him with a quiet tenacity. Things had calmed a lot since his suspect had left town, and he had been resorting to bullying his underlings to amuse himself daily. "Now tell me, what is your opinion on the matter?"

Tanaka squirmed, just as Kei thought he would. "My opinion, sir?"

"Yes, Tanaka-kun." If nothing else, his tactics actually taught his employees how to think, instead of simply taking orders. "What do you believe, from your experiences on the force, is happening here? You may speak freely."

"Well, sir, my first thought is that someone is trying to defame you, probably a suspect in a case you've worked on, or someone close to them."

Kei nodded encouragingly, glad his subordinate had made it this far. "Go on."

"That person also has extensive knowledge of our computer networks, or has acquired this knowledge, and may also be someone who wants to have your position on the force, sir." Tanaka was gaining confidence as he continued, as he usually did. Sometimes, Kei wondered if Tanaka was hoping for a reward for a job well done. "That person may have also altered records pertaining to the case they are concerned with. However, they are either overconfident, sir, or are not yet serious about going after you."

The last sentence piqued Kei's interest. "Now, why would you say that, Tanaka-kun?"

"Because, sir, seeing as how capable they are of manipulating our data, they should have manufactured the crime they were accusing you of in order to finish you off, but they didn't. Why?"

"That is a very good question, Tanaka-kun." Kei reclined in his chair. "What is your opinion?"

"I think they are toying with you, sir."

Very, very good. Maybe he would reward him by overlooking his overly long lunch hours this week. "Now, how would you go about fixing this?"

"I would roll back one of the computer databases, sir, and do a side-by-side comparison of the criminal and public files to find what else has been changed so it may be corrected as soon as possible. I would also request a log of the network traffic to and from our servers, as well as a log of recent changes to see if any connections can be made."

Kei grinned. "Good work Tanaka-kun; you're doing well. Compare the current records to those before the Phantom Heists began, then send them to me, so I may check them against the hard copies."

"Yes, sir." Tanaka left with enthusiasm and Kei returned to the papers on his desk. He knew what Tanaka would find. There would be one person deleted from the database, one person who had changed parents, one person who had several pieces of information edited then corrected several times over. The last person was himself, the second was his son, and the first would be his thief.

After three months of tedium, things were finally getting interesting again.

* * *

Kuan had to admit from time to time that there were parts of his job that he hated. He hated the fact that it was really a job, and he had to work. He hated being punctual and having to be polite to everyone that came through that front door (and he also hated not being able to just lock it whenever he felt like it). But the one thing he hated most, were the preteen, squealing girls that required every ounce of his attention, and demanded to know why his store did not carry the latest in whatever plastic, sterile idol they were obsessing over that week.

Much like the gaggle he had just finished dealing with actually.

Kuan glanced up at the clock and gave a short sigh. It was only three in the afternoon, and he was already fed up with people for the day. Where had all the customers he actually liked run off to, anyway? If that part-time kid he hired had anything to do with them not coming anymore, he was going to wring his scrawny little neck.

He shook his head, snatched up one of the magazines he really should've been selling, and propped his boots up on the counter. Thursdays were notoriously slow days, anyway.

Or so he thought, until the bell above the shop entrance rang. "Sorry, pal, we're closed." Ok, so that was a lie, but he didn't care.

"I didn't ask if you were open."

Holy. Shit.

Kuan grinned the wildest grin he could come up with. He recognized that voice anywhere. "Ryō! Man, it's been—"

"Shh!" Tsutomu waved his arms in a frantic calm-down motion. "I'm not Ryō anymore. It's Tsutomu now, Tsutomu."

Kuan let out a hearty laugh. "Tsutomu! It's been ages, how've you been?"

"Not bad." Tsutomu thumbed through the new additions rack. "I got a favor to ask you."

"Sure, if I can help." Kuan leaned up against the counter in interest. "There's nothing you'd like in there, but I have some stuff in the back I've been holding for you."

"Thanks." Tsutomu straightened and twirled the stand on the check-out counter. "How's business?"

"Tsutomu, the favor?"

Tsutomu sighed, hating to get right to the point. "I've joined this band, right? We're having trouble getting our name out—" Ok, so that was lie. He hadn't tried anywhere in town just yet, but he didn't have high hopes, either "—so I was wondering—"

Kuan knew precisely where this was going. "If I could get you guys in at the Boxx?"

"Not necessarily the Boxx," Tsutomu picked up a guitar pick laying out on the counter and studied it a little while muttering: "We'd be pretty happy even if it was Loft A."

Kuan shook his dreads, unable to see just how Tsutomu was having so much trouble with this, but also unable to turn him down. "You got a demo?"

A wicked smirk crossed Tsutomu's face as he passed the CD over. "Of course I do."

Kuan accepted it and stuck it in the stereo he kept under the counter before pulling on a pair of ear-swallowing headphones. The track barely started, and he already had a comment: "It's home made?" Tsutomu nodded, and let Kuan listen how he would, and Kuan had another comment. "It's different. Not city-style at all." Tsutomu nodded again, knowing Kuan couldn't hear him even if he did speak. "Where're these guys from?"

Tsutomu mouthed A-o-mo-ri as obviously as he could and Kuan nodded, understanding everything a little more. Of course they couldn't get into a live house. They were too different from what anyone else was playing and they obviously had no endorsement. They were too much of a risk, and their crappy demo was not helping.

The track ended, Kuan removed his headphones, and Tsutomu waited for his critique. "It's not bad. I can hear the talent even through that cheap recording." Tsutomu took no offense; his camera phone's audio recording capabilities were terrible at best.

The CD began to repeat automatically and Kuan casually listened from the headphones draped around his neck. "It sounds like you don't have a good balance between the instruments yet. You need to listen to each other more and _blend_. Don't rely on soundboards and editing to fix it all the time." Tsutomu nodded again. Kuan pressed one of the earpieces against his ear and listened again, frowning a little. "Who's the keyboard?"

"Me, why?"

Kuan was slightly disappointed; Tsutomu knew better. "You need to calm down and stop showing off as much." Kuan listened some more, scraping off any bit of advice he could give. "Your vocalist is good, but he's not right for that song."

"That's Yuki," Tsutomu commented.

Kuan sucked his teeth, hearing the vocals pick up again. "Unless he can change his voice without hurting it, keep Yuki-kun on backup for these heavier songs. See if someone else can do the main vocals better."

Tsutomu nodded.

Kuan resigned himself to his best guess for which venue would be the most welcoming. "Swing by the Guilty Live Stage tomorrow afternoon, and I'll set you guys up with the manager there."

Tsutomu clapped a hand down on Kuan's shoulder with a grateful smile. "Thanks, man. You're the best."

"Yeah, yeah, now get out of here so I can sell something to some real customers." Tsutomu turned away and bounced half-way to the door before Kuan realised he had one last bit of news. "By the way, Tetsuya's been by every week for his lessons."

Tsutomu paused, glad Kuan had any information about him at all. "How's he doing?"

"He's doing really good. You were right about him."

Tsutomu felt a little pride in that. Of course Tetsuya would be doing good. They were brothers, after all. "Of course. I'm always right." He waved a hand casually without looking back. "I'll pick up whatever you have for me next time. See you."

"Nice seeing you again, man."

* * *

"Tell me again why you're dragging us all the way out to Shimokitazawa?" Satoshi had his hand looped lazily in an overhead ring, not particularly fighting the swaying of the train so long as he didn't think he would lose his balance. He didn't know who was the craziest, Niwa for having them come out here, Krad for endorsing it, or himself for not leaving them all.

"A band I like is playing there tonight." Daisuke had been using the same excuse each time, and Satoshi had yet to beat it out of him why he and Krad had to come, or why Krad didn't object for that matter.

"Yes, but why do _we_ have to—"

"**Just go along with it, Satoshi. I promise it won't kill you.**"

Satoshi glared up at his newly established older brother, coming to the rather obvious conclusion that Krad was in on the whole thing. "**This had better not be one of your make-me-have-fun schemes.**"

Mock offense spread across Krad's face. "**I didn't come up with it, he did.**"

Satoshi refrained from using one of the many words he'd heard come out of Krad's mouth from time to time and just accepted that he wasn't going to get out of this, while Krad felt satisfied with his victory and Daisuke wished they wouldn't talk so fast so he could understand them.

* * *

A/N: And that's it for this. I feel like I cheated with the ending and should've written more than that with those three, but this chapter was already a whole word-processor page longer than the other one. I need to build you guys up for the super-long finale chapter, right?

Maybe this chapter wasn't as OC-related as I thought, but it wasn't particularly exciting, either. It felt kind of like an information chapter. This was actually the trimmed-down version of what I originally had. At first, I was going through explaining all the backgrounds of everyone, and then when I re-read it in the morning, it put me to sleep.

Maybe I'll do some character info on my blog sometime.

Until then, leave some reviews, ok?

Thanks for sticking with me so far! I promise I'll stop being so boring by the time the story ends.


	3. Week One, Weekend: Exploring

A/N: Whoot, new chapter. (not really, this is the updated version.)

**This is not the full version! **I was told that there was way too much attention to the OCs in this chapter (aka, I broke my promise), so I posted the full version on my blog, and you have the much more CANON version here. Also, I should mention that there is some mature content in the full version that is completely skippable. Feel free not to read it and fast forward whenever you feel uncomfortable. I will say it again. For future reference, all extended chapters will be tagged with "extended". **The version of the chapter posted here is not full-length and you can find the complete version on my blog!**

moroitsubasa-fanfiction. blogspot. com/ 2009/ 06/ ikite-yuku-ch3-extended-version. html

In case any one is interested, there are also character bios and chapter summaries up on my blog, the latter up under "factsheets". It should make it a little easier to glance back in case you think you may have forgotten something. I'll try to keep up with those. Also, I have a Twitter, which is linked on my profile.

With that said, to help lengthen this chapter, I have cheated by adding a blooper reel at the bottom of this chapter. Don't kill me?

This is really not a very exciting chapter, and things may continue to be slow to pick up while I try to find a way to pace things. I don't want everything to happen too quickly or all at once. At least, not until I'm ready to end this.

God, it's so early, I can't think any more. I'll stop talking now.

AA/N: I wasn't liking how the chapter went, so I did some editing and some moving around to get it right. This chapter encompasses three days.

There is a big reveal in this chapter at the very end that may/may not be a surprise to everyone; plus some hastily added scenes. Also, there is a little bit of deleted content that can be found on my blog. It's just some bits that I thought you may not have been interested in and one that's a little saucy.

I haven't slept in a day and a half, and this is the product of my emulating Kenji.

Ugh, I am dieing for some caffeine.

* * *

Satoshi woke with a headache, rather unsurprising and quite expected, considering the events of the night before. Niwa had dragged both him and his older brother to some miniature concert in a place called Yaneura on the third floor of a building in Shimokitazawa, where they had been subjected to loud, uproarious music, a lot of shouting and shoving, and more than a handful of hyped up music-lovers. Satoshi had early on retreated to a corner where he could sip his Coke in semi-peace, and after insisting to Niwa that he had no love for noisy environments, made himself comfortable in the considerably quieter stairwell as the population before the stage approached smothering levels.

Krad, on the other hand, somehow found a way to enjoy himself, leading Satoshi to believe that he had been dragged to several similar events in Satoshi's absence. Niwa was just as foolish and reckless as many of the other people were around him, and came out with a noticeable bruise on his shoulder, then proceeded to chat with several of the musicians before Krad finally convinced him that if they wanted to take the train back, they had to leave then and there, much to Satoshi's infinite relief.

So they boarded the train, Niwa still high off whatever he was high on—be it adrenaline or some drugs mixed into the fog machine gas—until they finally parted and Niwa exited in Higashi-Nakano.

It was the first time in a long time Satoshi had been glad to be rid of him. If Niwa was always going to be like this from now on, Satoshi needed to get himself some calmer friends.

* * *

Tsutomu kicked the tire of the van as he made it back to the vehicle with the others trickling behind him. Getting a band out for the first time in Tokyo was frustrating at best, especially when the manager of the live house he was storming out of told him the exact same things Kuan had brought up with their music the day before. "Stupid bastards don't know what they're missing."

Yuki placed his guitar in the hatch-back, carefully eyeing Tsutomu in a bit of nervousness. Tsutomu had the quickest temper out of all of them. Throwing a fit was usually the part right before he began to throw things, and Yuki did not want his guitar chucked into the road. "We'll just have to clean it up and do better next time."

Tsutomu didn't want to be placated, at least not until he was done with being angry. The sight of all members but one gave him something else to complain about. "And didn't Kenji leave first? Just where the hell did he go?" The man had left right after they had finished playing, stopping by the sound booth for a couple seconds before leaving.

"Probably went out for a smoke," Yuki chirped as Ippei climbed into the passenger seat.

"Well, he can find his own way to the studio," Tsutomu just short of slammed the sliding door shut as he made his way in. "Stupid idiot's gonna get cancer."

Mifu just shook his head and started the car. "We know, we know."

They arrived at the studio a few minutes before their allotted time-slot and Tsutomu made use of his energy by impatiently shuffling everyone inside with their respective instruments, instructing Mifu—whose drums were not at all portable and he planned to use the studio set—to bring Kenji's bass. When questioned about it, Tsutomu replied with a miffed "I'll take care of it", even though it did nothing to answer the question.

When they set up in that small room, Tsutomu queued a track up on the keyboard and started to adjust the tuning of the bass. Ippei had finally had enough. "Tsutomu, what are you doing?"

"I'll play Kenji's part." Tsutomu plucked a string aggravatedly and twisted its knob a hair. Kenji must've just restrung it last night; there was no other reason for it to lose the tuning so fast.

"You don't _play_ the bass!" Ippei paused, making the realization. "Do you?"

Tsutomu sighed in frustration, but was finally satisfied with the tuning. "I thought I already told you guys I can play just about anything." Ippei didn't remember Tsutomu saying anything like that, but he chalked it up as something Tsutomu's had issues with before. "You guys just practice your parts. I want to see if we can tighten this up at all."

Yuki jumped in before Ippei could ruin Tsutomu's mood any further. "Anything in particular you want us to work on?"

"The manager at Guilty said we don't listen to each other and that the vocals weren't quite right. We're going to keep practicing until we get a good sound going."

"The vocals are just fine," Ippei retorted, and Tsutomu was more than fed up with his unchanging ways.

"I know Yuki's a great vocalist, ok? But no matter how good he is, if his voice doesn't match the music, we're not going to get off the ground." Tsutomu's exasperation on the subject was nearly tangible. "I just want to see if someone else sounds better on some of the rougher songs so we don't get laughed out of another audition."

"I agree," Yuki chimed in before Ippei could make his retort, always being the peacemaker and sensing Ippei would be easier to persuade. "Trying to do a couple of those songs right hurts my voice—not that it hurts right now; I can still sing—anyway, if someone can do it better, then it'll work out for everyone. Right?"

"Good then it's settled." Finally, something was going right. "Let's run through _Umbrella_ first. Ippei, you do the main vocals. Yuki, improvise backup. Mifu, cue us in."

And so it went, with Tsutomu doing his best to replicate what he'd heard Kenji play, and everyone taking turns with the lyrics. There was some switching around, with Tsutomu taking a couple songs on the sheer basis that he could hit the lower notes accurately without making funny faces.

Kenji never showed up for practice.

* * *

Satoshi had been enjoying zoning out on the train when a man bumped into him—or maybe it was the other way around, he really hadn't been paying attention—when they stopped at Yoyogi and Satoshi found himself being stared down at, and for a minute Satoshi wondered if the man was ever going to stop, and then, the man smiled.

As much as Kenji liked intimidating random people on the train—he didn't, but the blond-headed boy had intrigued him—he didn't want to seem overly odd. After the stare-down, Kenji still couldn't determine if who he had bumped into was a foreigner or not. The blond hair seemed natural and the boy was rather pale, but there was something about him that was still distinctly Japanese. So, Kenji guessed. "**Sari. Yu... wiu teik she-dee?**" He hadn't practiced his English since high school; there was no need way out in Aomori. Kenji was proud enough that he had come up with that much.

The doors closed and the train jerked forward.

Satoshi was not so impressed. "**I **_**am**_** Japanese.**"

"I see." The accent could have fooled Kenji, and he reached into his bag to pull out one of the CDs he had burned from the earlier audition. The sound technician had recorded a copy for him as a favor, and Kenji had spent the better part of five hours just burning copy after copy. "Want to get our name out."

"_The next station is O-Cha-no-Mizu..._"

Satoshi almost refused, but Daisuke's fondness for music came to mind, and Satoshi decided there was no harm in it (so long as he checked it first). "Sure." It was a simple, self-burned disc with nothing more than a track list of three songs and the title _**Time Fly**_ handwritten on the cover. Satoshi assumed it was the name of the band. "Strange name."

"Tsutomu's idea," Kenji replied, as if the sentence alone would answer the question entirely. "We play Yoyogi, Sunday." Satoshi shrugged non-committally, and Kenji didn't expect much else.

The train rocked as it always did and the scenery flew by in just the same manner. The cityscape flashed before them with buildings and houses and visual dips and rises as the track blatantly ignored changes in topography. Then, they were by the river and there were bridges and crossing trains, some overhead and some below, and some relying strongly on the trains being exactly on time. The river wasn't much to see, a muddy old river like any other, but the distance between the track and the shore offered a better look at the buildings lining the other bank. Unfortunately, it went ignored by all on the train.

"Which one?" Kenji muttered and Satoshi wasn't entirely sure what he meant. It didn't help that Kenji had that muddy Aomori accent making his speech that much harder to decipher. Kenji clarified: "Your exit."

"Transfer at Tōkyō. You?"

"The Local from here." It hadn't made much sense to take the rapid in the first place, since it only saved him two stops and by the time he got over to the appropriate track, he may end up on the train he would have originally taken, but it saved him the aggravation of trying to actually stay on the train at those stops, rather than being pushed off in the rush.

"Can't be much further then."

"Suzuki Kenji," the man said without prompting.

"Hikari Satoshi," Satoshi responded without thinking.

The train pulled in and Kenji got off, and Satoshi was left to wonder just why he had conversed with a random stranger on the train.

* * *

Krad was well aware of the fact that as much as he was a substitute for Dark for Daisuke, Daisuke was a substitute for Dark for Emiko. Daisuke dragged him to the places Dark took him, and was slowly and surely adopting much of Dark's old wardrobe when they went. Daisuke took him to music stores and shows and just wandering and in this way, Krad suspected that he was one of the few things that kept Daisuke from having to respond to Dark's sudden absence.

It bothered him on a psychologically analyzing level—Daisuke had to accept someday that Dark was gone possibly for good—and on a more human level. He and Dark had not been on good terms when Dark had run off, and Krad would rather not be compared to the idiot at all, but his concern for Daisuke outweighed that and he let it go.

Emiko seemed to be clinging to Daisuke in the same way. She encouraged him and molded him and helped him achieve what she believed he wanted to achieve. That had been Krad's first impression.

Then, he had gotten a closer look. It was a lot less of Emiko turning Daisuke into Dark and a lot more of Daisuke turning himself into Dark for her. The way he acted near Emiko ground on Krad's nerves the same way Dark himself had. Daisuke boasted and fought for amusement and did stupid stunts at home, and Emiko responded with all the over the top affection she had shown for Dark.

Krad had found this side of Daisuke a lot more tolerable when Satoshi was around yesterday, but with Satoshi gone to a counselling session and with Saga around to possibly make things worse, Krad was dreading tonight's "study group". He would have much preferred to be anywhere but here, but the thought of having to deal with the ensuing boredom kept him from returning home right then and there.

Krad had plainly had enough when Daisuke disappeared down one of Emiko's traps upon their arrival at the Niwa residence and stood there for a moment before instructing Saga and Funabashi that they were studying tonight at his place.

As for Daisuke, Krad figured he could go play Dark by himself.

* * *

"How have you been since leaving?" It was always the same.

"Fine." Isobe asks.

"Do you feel any anxiety in being home?" Satoshi does his best not to answer.

"I'm fine." Isobe asks again.

"How are your grades?" Satoshi doesn't change.

"Fine." Isobe becomes frustrated; Satoshi doesn't care.

Isobe sighed and crossed his legs the other way, not knowing why Satoshi never chose to cooperate with him. "What did you do today?"

"School," Satoshi was bored out of his mind, "Rode the train."

There, finally a budge. "Did something happen on the train?"

Satoshi shrugged. There was nothing for the man to analyze in this event. "Not much. Just talking."

Isobe leaned in with interest. "What did you talk about?"

"A stranger thought I was a foreigner." To Satoshi, his voice sounded confused, and he knew why. The incident had confused him. Kenji had confused him. His eyebrows furrowed as he gazed up at an invisible nothing on the ceiling, trying to read the answers on no more than a speck of dust. "He gave me a CD."

Isobe seemed engrossed in what Satoshi was saying, but he always did. "He gave you a CD?"

Satoshi really had no interest in staying on the topic, or even being here. "He's in a band. They play in Yoyogi Park this Sunday."

"Are you going to see them?"

Satoshi thought about it honestly for a few moments. "No."

"I really wish you would."

"I have plans." A lie.

"That's too bad."

"Time?"

"4:41."

Forty-eight minutes, some-odd seconds to go.

* * *

When Satoshi finally made it home, he could hear the ruckus of video games and people visiting and Satoshi, not feeling very social, didn't bother announcing his presence to them and proceeded straight to his room. He left his book bag near the door, having done all his homework either on the train or in the counselling office, and instead moved for the bookshelf to see if there was any topic he preferred to study that night.

Instead of finding a book almost immediately like he usually did, he found all their subjects to be dull and uninteresting to him. He stood in front of the shelves, staring without seeing as the mass of texts and their proximity reminded him of riding the train.

That's what he wanted to do.

He wanted to get on a train. He wanted to ride it and see how far it would go and not worry about being too late for the last one back. He just wanted to go for the sake of leaving, because then at least he'd be doing something, even if that something involved doing nothing but staring blankly out a window at scenery too dark to distinguish.

It was the same driving force that led him to take those midnight walks that had gotten him into so much trouble before.

He'd never had those kinds of urges before making friends. He'd been content to spend hours studying for the sake of studying because if he didn't study, then he'd become stupid like the rest of his classmates. Then he had made friends with some of those stupid classmates and found them not to be so stupid after all.

Friends.

Satoshi turned just enough to be able to comfortably view his discarded book bag.

Had he perhaps made friends with that man on the train? If not, could he? Could he form a friendship without having to be pushed and pressured into one, or did he have all the social skills of a cockroach?

Come to think of it, cockroaches probably had better social skills than him. They swarmed, didn't they?

Satoshi shook his head at himself for letting his thoughts wander so far and removed the CD from his book bag. After finding a portable CD player and a set of headphones, he quietly snuck back outside.

He wouldn't take the train until he stranded himself.

But a nice walk would do him some good.

* * *

Takeshi, in a rare show of courtesy, had let Satoshi steal his seat for a couple days so that he and Daisuke could catch up. Daisuke had been the only one Satoshi had seemed to talk to, thus the closest the little recluse had to a friend, and Takeshi figured it was only fair that he let them reestablish themselves—for a while.

However, today Takeshi was done sitting in Satoshi's back-row corner seat far away from his friends. If Satoshi wanted to sit elsewhere, he could take it up with a teacher.

This was the entirety of Takeshi's thought process before he plopped himself unceremoniously on the desk Satoshi had been using before classes began.

"Saehara!" came Daisuke's indignant objection.

"What?"

Cue Daisuke's face-palm and Satoshi's much more controlled response. "I am currently using this desk, Saehara-kun."

"Sorry, Hiwatari," Satoshi pointedly ignored the lack of appropriate honorific while Takeshi continued, not remorseful at all, "This is my assigned seat. I'm supposed to sit here."

Satoshi let out a short breath which could have been either a sigh or a subdued snort, before gathering the rest of his things and addressing Daisuke directly: "I'll see you afterward."

Daisuke gave an apologetic smile Satoshi easily read, while Takeshi's perturbed stare followed Satoshi to his seat. Well, that was that. "Daisuke, what's up with that guy?"

Daisuke paused in straightening his notes, his head tilting slightly to the right. "Huh?"

"He acts like he's got some stick in his ass, or could use a good kick in the ass –" Takeshi glanced back at Satoshi with a look of distaste, monitoring as the teen reordered the desk to his liking and situated himself ready for a class that wouldn't begin for another ten minutes. "—or _something_."

Daisuke shook his head. Takeshi was not the most intelligent of people at best. "He's just not very social, that's all."

"If you say so." Takeshi became bored of that subject and jumped to the next, leaning forward excitedly. "So there's been some rumors around 'bout you and Harada."

Daisuke's head tilted to the left this time. "Which one?"

"Riku." Takeshi's tone implied it should've been obvious.

"Oh." Daisuke's gaze switched to what he was doing for a moment. "What about her?"

Takeshi leered, punching Daisuke's shoulder playfully. "Heard she likes you, man." Daisuke looked at Takeshi like he was an idiot. He was, but that is not the point. Daisuke and Riku weren't even on speaking terms ever since Dark had left. He still had sore feelings; _she_ probably still had sore feelings. Neither of them had any intentions of righting this as far as Daisuke knew.

Neither of them particularly cared any more as far as Daisuke knew.

Takeshi was an idiot.

"I mean it. Talk to her." Takeshi shoved lightly, mistaking Daisuke's silence for shyness.

Daisuke knew he wasn't going to get anywhere trying to convince Takeshi that he didn't want to talk to her. Ever. It would just be better to nip this thing in the bud. "Who said it?"

Takeshi shrugged. "The girls."

Daisuke's eyes narrowed slightly at his rather dense friend. Of course the source of the rumors would be from the group of girls in the class. That much should've been obvious. Daisuke continued on the assumption Takeshi didn't know which one was propagating the gossip. "How long?"

"They've been talking about it since before Hiwatari transferred."

Daisuke stopped all movement as that bit of information clicked in his head and his cheeks stained a faint red. "Oh."

Well, that was a revelation.

Takeshi grinned wide. "_Talk_ to her."

Daisuke nodded.

It wouldn't hurt to talk.

Across the room, Satoshi watched their conversation, reading Daisuke's lips and actions, but unable to get anything from the back of Takeshi's head, so the conversation was lost on him. Whatever they were discussing, it was obviously upsetting to Daisuke, and Satoshi had half the mind to go over there and interrupt.

But Daisuke was a big boy. If he didn't want to talk about something, he'd need to learn to speak up for himself.

Satoshi returned to his book, and read nothing from his distraction.

* * *

The rest of the day went by, just like any other day. Satoshi did his best to ignore Daisuke's constant bids for attention during class and Krad put up with Saga with the help of Funabashi at the same time. Toriko had her new roommates help out throughout the building, and between the six of them (herself and Masa included) and the occasional lull in business, they had the whole building nearly spotless by the end of the day. Yuki never did stop fretting about Kenji not coming home the night before nor the fact that he didn't show up during the day. Masa turned out to be quiet and gentle, much like how Tsutomu remembered Toriko's late husband to be, and was very sensitive to not push any buttons.

Study group was less study, more Monopoly that night. Krad pulled the game out of his closet while looking for something else, and it was more or less self-elected to be the night's game. Satoshi had managed to win all three rounds that night, and Daisuke had managed to be the first to become bankrupt twice, but it was the fun that mattered, not the winning, no matter how much Saga whined every time he lost.

All the while, _Time Fly_'s CD played in the background, and when asked about it, Satoshi volunteered to burn Daisuke a copy and informed him about the show Sunday morning. If nothing else, none of them would have to be bored at home that morning. In Krad's mind, however, Daisuke seemed too eager to go to the show, but like the good, over-tired friend he was, he just kept his mouth shut and moved his car eight spaces and went directly to jail.

* * *

Kenji had just barely made it to the building he and the rest of the band were staying in when he heard a voice shouting at him from a window. "Kenji! Where'd you run off to?"

Kenji adjusted the duffel over his shoulder, looking up at Yuki, surprised to see a load of laundry already done at seven in the morning. "Nowhere."

Yuki hung up the last of the shirts on the line to dry and gestured wildly. "Come on up. We've got great news!"

The only concrete thought in Kenji's head was that things worked quickly in Tokyo and the moment he climbed the final step to the living quarters, the door was opened for him by one excited Yuki. "You won't believe our luck!"

Kenji dropped the bag with a grin. He'd humor him. "What is it?"

"We got calls from four live houses and—" Yuki took note of Kenji's less-than-surprised expression and put his hands at his hips. "You know this already, don't you?" Kenji nodded. Well, he knew about three of them, anyway. The fourth had to have been someone else's efforts. "Well," Yuki scratched his head, slightly embarrassed at his enthusiasm, and Kenji made his way over to the mirror. "Well, now we have some auditions Saturday, so don't go disappearing again, ok? Tsutomu's mad enough at you as it is."

"Where is he?" Kenji let his hair fall free from the tie with a sigh of relief. It always felt good to let his hair fall loose after it being up so tight.

"Sleeping." Kenji scratched his hands across his scalp to completely loose his hair as he started back for the couch. Of course Tsutomu was sleeping. He slept enough for all of them. "Everyone's still sleeping, except Mifu's downstairs helping Toriko-san. _You're_ the only one who wakes up this early naturally." Yuki watched Kenji move much slower than usual as he settled on the sofa and flipped open his laptop, which Yuki promptly snapped shut. "Get some sleep." Kenji opened it again. "I know you snuck back in the other day, and I know you haven't been sleeping properly, so sleep."

"Can't," Kenji flipped his laptop back open without irritation. It was closer to awe that Yuki had caught him sneaking back in at four in the morning three days ago. "Yoyogi today."

"And you don't want to sleep through it," Yuki finished for him, slightly exasperated. "Fine, but don't blame me if you pass out on the way there." Kenji smiled as Yuki stomped off. His concern for him was just too cute.

* * *

"What the hell are these?" Tsutomu had stupid ideas.

"Costumes." Really crazy, out-of-his-mind, stupid ideas.

"_Why_?" Ippei didn't know how he put up with it.

"You want us to stand out, right? So, costumes." He had no idea how he put up with Tsutomu and all his just plain stupid ideas.

"Really? Just—really?" And out of all of Tsutomu's stupid ideas, this one may have been the stupidest.

"Who gets the scuba gear?" And Yuki's enthusiasm for every last one of them wasn't helping.

* * *

If it hadn't been for the piercing scream announcing the band name, Satoshi probably would have never located the band. He would have never pictured the quiet man who handed him the CD to be dressed like a pirate, playing the bass while trying to get the strap to stop catching on his sword. Nor would he have ever thought to see a scuba diver doing vocals, nor a doctor on guitar, nor a dinosaur on drums. And he would have never expected to see a gorilla on keyboards, doing various acrobatics when lacking anything better to do.

Most surprising is that they had actually drawn a sizeable crowd, and when the police came by and told them that they had to either show them a performance permit or wrap it up and let another band have the slot and Daisuke was itching to make friends with each and every one of the band members, the scuba diver and the doctor sold CDs and chatted while the other three helped to pack.

Most surprisingly, the only coherent comment Daisuke had when the crowd had finally dispersed was: "I think I recognize the keyboardist from somewhere."

Satoshi stared at Daisuke like he had grown another head, glad that Krad, Saga, and Funabashi had gone ahead to watch the Greasers and buy some takoyaki. "Niwa, the man was in a gorilla suit. How could you _possibly_ have recognized him?"

Daisuke shrugged. "Dunno. It just feels like a I know him from somewhere." At that moment Krad returned with their takoyaki, explaining that Saga had dragged Funabashi out somewhere to do something, and Satoshi was glad for the interruption. It didn't make any sense that Daisuke would be crazier than he was anyway.

* * *

Saga was reviewing the film he had shot in silence when Funabashi reentered the room with their dinner. They has just finished up with another one of those crazy photo-shoots Saga liked to do; crazy by the world's standards, anyway. For Saga, it was par for the course.

He never liked to do the standard sessions where he found beautiful girls, put them in beautiful outfits and took beautiful pictures that would help all of them further their careers. Instead, he took anyone he liked, put them in something uncomfortable, morbid, unconventional, or sometimes even in something unsafe, and just took pictures until he found the one image his mind had been searching for and called it a day.

Today, all his models had dressed to represent a fear. One had been a spider; one had been encased in a small, clear box; one had been made to resemble a giant needle; the list went on until he had twenty-six models representing twenty-six fears. He took all his fears and pit them against each other in combat, and some fears were fighting, some were weapons, some were props or scenery; and he just insisted on them battling for hours while he took rapid-fire photographs and had Funabashi film until, exhausted, one of his models fainted.

Unsatisfied, Saga found the situation impossible to work as his models frenzied themselves into a panic with and called it quits for the day.

Funabashi approached him quietly with the plastic bag of convenience-store dinners and bottled drinks and was content to simply watch his employer click through the images in frustration until his original purpose resurfaced in his mind. "Sir, may I ask you a question regarding one of your recent decisions?"

Saga popped open a can of coffee with more force than he intended and took a swig. "Shoot."

Funabashi straightened his shoulders. "Why did you inform Mr. Mousy that it was safe to return to Tokyo when you knew that was not the case?"

Saga took another swig of his coffee, finishing it off, and opened another with much less agitation, returning to his film. "He had to come back, Funabashi. You know that."

"Then why did you not inform him of the danger and necessity of his return instead of having him jump into the current situation blindly?"

Saga was not annoyed by the questioning only because it was Funabashi asking. As his full-time assistant and bodyguard, Funabashi had to be in on Saga's exact train of thought and be able to anticipate what would happen next if he was to be useful. This meant questioning his motives and poking and prying, and Saga actually found it welcoming, when coming from Funabashi. It was comforting on some level, and a sign of their closeness on another. "If he knew what he was getting into, he would've just gone into hiding when he got here. I need him reckless if his coming back is going to help."

Funabashi frowned. He didn't like it at all, but it was not his say to dictate to Saga what he thought was right. He would live with it and continue in his service, because that was his place, and all the while, he would just continue to believe that Saga knew what he was doing. "Understood, sir."

* * *

Tsutomu kicked a rock he'd almost tripped on. It was late and the spaces between the lights were far enough that there were areas where he almost couldn't see his feet. He didn't mind, though, especially not when he was feeling very satisfied with the meeting he'd had. The manager from Ueno Sensation had promised him that he'd consider giving the band a shot, and that was all that mattered.

Though he wished that he didn't have to wait so late to speak with him, or else he would've been able to take the train and the bus back to Toriko's apartment instead of having to walk to a familiar park to crash for the night. He kicked another rock and it veered to the left to roll down to the riverbed.

And that was when he heard the van start up and drive away, and saw her climb up the steep incline and out into the path.

"Riku-chan?" She froze, as if she knew she had been caught, which didn't reassure him in the slightest. "What were you doing down there?"

She turned slowly to face him, the voice familiar to her. "Who—?" It was hard to tell in the dark, but she only knew one person who's hair shone purple in the light. "Mousy-senpai? When did you—?"

He'd really hoped he wouldn't run into anyone he knew, especially since he was still on the wanted list, but he could take a stab at some damage control later. Now, he glared down at his former underclassman, trying to fathom just why he would be finding her in a place like this. "Don't change the subject, Riku-chan. I want to know what you were doing down there."

Riku got over her surprise at seeing her long-missing senior and at being caught, now only able to acknowledge her feelings of guilt and the trepidation of what the consequences would be. "I—I bought something."

"Let me see it," he snatched the bag out of her hands, mentally preparing himself for the worst-case scenario. What he pulled out was not as bad as it could have been, but not pleasing in the slightest. "Steroids?"

Riku nodded dejectedly. "Yes."

Dark gave a hefty sigh, trying to figure out how best to handle the situation. "Do you have any idea what this stuff can do to you?" Riku fidgeted and Dark jerked a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to get his point across without being too harsh or unreasonable. Going overboard was just going to make things worse. "Who sold it to you?"

"He said his name was Hotta." Dark frowned, but held the paper sack out to her, feeling like he was making a mistake and she accepted it after a moment of hesitation. "You're not gonna stop me?"

"I'm not going to tell you not to take it, Riku-chan." Even if he confiscated it, he knew she could just come back and buy some more. He had to let her make the decision on her own. "Just research it and know what you're getting into first, ok?"

"Ok." The conversation confused her. The Dark she knew had been known as a play-boy with a bit of a temper; now it seemed like he had almost matured. There was just a great difference between the teenager that Risa had a shrine of in her closet and the man before her, that Riku wasn't sure that what she was experiencing was even real. "Does Niwa-kun know you're back?"

Dark stuck his hands in his coat pockets. All the running and hiding over the past few months made it uncomfortable to see someone he knew again, and he didn't even remember how he was supposed to act around her. "No, and you're not going to tell him."

Riku grabbed her elbow and held it to herself to try and stop her fidgeting. "You're in trouble, aren't you?"

"Yes," his reply came a little late, as if he didn't like admitting to it. Dark didn't want to take their talk any further. "Go home, Riku-chan, and don't tell anyone you saw me."

Riku began to prefer the old Dark. The new one was beginning to scare her. He was secretive and he was somehow responsible, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Riku just knew that he must have done a very, very bad thing. "Be careful, alright?" Dark didn't respond to that and Riku could only hope he listened.

* * *

Bloopers and Out-Takes

Arc I Chapter 12**  
Satoshi**: -struggles with the seed in his drink-  
**Krad**: You know, if you--  
**Satoshi**: -sucks too hard and the seed launches into his throat. cough cough. hack hack-  
**Krad**: See? Now if you had just listened to me in the first place... Satoshi?  
**Satoshi**: -not moving-

Still Chapter 12  
**Dark**: -batting rocks across the river- Hey, Dai-chan?  
**Daisuke**: Yeah?  
**Dark**: What do you want to be -hits another rock. it smashes through the window- Well... Shit.

Chapter 13  
**Daisuke**: You can be on my team, if you want.  
**Satoshi**: That'd be very nice, Niwa, thank -is hit in the back of the head with a dodge ball-  
**Risa**: Riku!  
**Riku**: -shrugs- If he was as smart as he thinks he is, he would've been on my team.

* * *

A/N: Aaaaand, cue the dramatic music! I'm too tired to say anything else, so just drop me a review and tell me how you like it! Don't forget to check out the full-length version on my blog! (Check the tags if you don't see it on the front page)


	4. Not a chapter, a teaser

A/N: **THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER! THIS IS A SPOILER AND A TEASER AND AN EXCUSE FOR NOT UPDATING!**

I've received notice that some people are having trouble viewing the blog and the posts, so I will update the versions to the full version until I can fix that. I have no idea what the problem is, though...

And, because I feel kinda bored, snippets and sneak peaks of future chapters!

Yes, this is considered cheating, but I hate how long I've gone without updating anything. Now, this isn't all the spoilers I have, but too much and you'll know the whole ending before I do.

* * *

Kenji thought he had returned in the clear and was too exhausted to think of anything else than to get ready for bed, when a suggestive whistle from behind startled him into alertness. Kenji whirled around, brush in hand, and chucked the thing at the only other conscious person he could find in the room, Tsutomu.

"Ow!" Kenji took satisfaction in the fact that he had managed to wound him and returned to freeing his hair from its disheveled bun. Then, Tsutomu made an idiot of himself again. "Damn, check out those hickeys."

Kenji's cheeks tinged red as he slapped a hand over his neck...

"What kind of girl gave you those?" Tsutomu bounced around him, deprived of attention and particularly needy as Kenji gave up and shook his hair free. Tsutomu left his line of vision and Kenji assumed he had neglected Tsutomu long enough for him to realize Kenji was not going to grant him any attention. He began to remove his shirt, when he felt a finger land on a previously covered love-bite. Tsutomu smirked lecherously. "Does she have a sister?"

Kenji fumed as his face flushed further, and he grabbed Tsutomu's shoulders and spun him around. Wordlessly, he half-guided, half-shoved Tsutomu out the door, much to the other male's many protests and immediately locked the door...

* * *

..."So, then—!" Tsutomu had to stop his story for another bout of laughter. "S-so then—!"

Yuki, who was also caught up in the giggles, spoke up from the kitchen, "Just say it, Tsutomu. What happened next?"

"Ok, ok, ok." Tsutomu took a second to breathe before continuing. "So, then, this Saga guy just gets up and walks across the room, right? He walks right up to the big guy and makes like he's got this—" snicker "this big secret to let him in on. And so he makes the guy get closer." Tsutomu motioned like he was beckoning someone over, miming out the story almost unconsciously...

"And he leans in real close, like this, and he says to this guy—"...

"It don't matter how much meat you got up here—" Tsutomu flexed his arms...

"If you don't have any down here!" Tsutomu's riotous laughter sprang back to life, and each expressed his own amusement or slight disgust at the nature of the joke in his own way, each in accordance to his own ways...

* * *

...Only moments after Kenji had fallen into slumber, Mifu spoke up again. "Kenji's gay?"...

* * *

... People ran screaming in the confusion, but [he] remained stationary in the chaos, only watching Dark as he hopped the short rail to the stage and hijacked a single guitar. The police approached, fighting against the crowd to make it to where Dark was just before the stage. In all the shouting, several officers announced Dark's presence and ordered him to surrender peacefully.

"_There he is!"_

"_Mousy's at the stage!"_

"_We have the building surrounded!"_

"_Mousy Dark, you are under arrest as the prime suspect of the Phantom Heists!"_

"_Surrender peacefully and your sentence may be less severe."_

The excitement built as the police fought the retreating crowd to reach Dark as if the mob was trying to protect him in their blind escapes. The officers' orders began to falter, ordering the people to remain calm and to give them room, but the crowd paid no attention. Finally, as the last vestiges of the herd began to filter out that single door, the first officer broke through.

He was young, inexperienced, and scared out of his mind, but looked Dark straight in the eye and put on his bravest face as he announced in an authoritative voice that Dark was under arrest.

Then Dark gave a nasty smirk and flipped his pursuers the bird...

* * *

...Now, Saga was watching [Dark] like a rabid dog, ready to call in Funabashi to save him if he so much as suspected another violent outburst. And all Dark was doing was looking at a damn Lego man.

With a frustrated sound somewhere between a growl and a shriek, Dark pulled off the Lego head in a sudden, violent motion and dropped the decapitated officer in the trash. There was a moment where Dark did nothing but breathe, then he muttered something low that Saga didn't quite catch. "What?"

Dark turned on him with an aggression that Keiji didn't ever want to see. "I said tell me where that rat-bastard son-of-a-whore lives."


	5. Week One, Sunday: That Evening

A/N: Wow, you don't get much later in updating than this, do you? How have you been? The wait hasn't been too long has it?

This chapter takes place in the course of Sunday evening, directly after the previous chapter ended, and is a little short compared to the last chapter, but you'll forgive me right?

Enough with the apologies, let's get to what you really want: the update!

* * *

Riku stood quietly at her sister's door, not entirely sure why she was there. She felt that she wanted to talk—something they hadn't really done in months—and yet, she knew it was better to keep quiet. Riku knew Risa would want to know that Dark was back and that she could go fawning over him again, but now that she was seconds away from doing so, Riku wasn't so sure Risa was even interested in the guy anymore.

The past couple months had changed the both of them. Riku's group of friends had shifted from mostly sporty girls to a tighter-knit group of boys, and yet somehow her number of friends had grown. She had become more outgoing in some ways, opening up to new experiences and new trains of thought, and yet had become quieter towards those she had been close to before—people like Niwa and Hiwatari.

Risa, on the other hand, had withdrawn, and Riku knew a little bit of why. The broken window incident had left her with a scar across her cheek. It was faint at worst, and skillfully hidden by foundation and cover up to the point very few actually knew where it was and how bad it looked. But that didn't change the fact that Risa herself could see it, and the entire school knew of its existence. Even Riku understood that there was absolutely no beauty in a scar on a woman's face. The only person Risa seemed to actively seek out anymore was Ritsuko, and they had grown closer than Riku thought she and Risa had ever been.

She had been a little jealous at first. She and Risa were twins; they were supposed to latch onto each other, and Ritsuko was interfering on that. As Risa slowly began to leave the house again, flirt again, smile again, Riku still couldn't come up with anything to say to her. She didn't know how to comfort her sister, or how to be there for her, or how to even tell when she was having a hard day anymore. So, she let Ritsuko take her place as the twin.

Riku sighed, shaking her head as she stepped back from the door and retreated to her room for some sleep, sure that Risa wasn't even interested in someone like Dark anymore, and as Riku's door shut firmly, Risa's slid open and she peered out in question only to find Riku no longer there. Risa frowned, glancing up and down the hall, but found no one.

"Riku?"

No one heard.

* * *

Daisuke laid in bed, the day running circles in his head, but nothing stood out more than the excursion to the park. Sure, they had gone to arcades and eaten, and even ended the day with some shoot-'em-up video game, but Yoyogi park in particular felt important.

In the end, he had bought Time Fly's CD, and now it played on loop in his ears. To him, the music was strong and familiar, comforting in a way, and it had nothing to do with the lyrics. In one evening, Daisuke had managed to memorize the words anyway.

"_I walk with holes in my umbrella through the pouring rain;_

_Waiting for the light to turn, the colors never change;_

_You walk nearby with your umbrella, I ask you to please wait;_

_Cover my holes with your umbrella, protect me from the rain._"

The keyboardist had sung that song, and despite the gorilla suit, Daisuke could tell the man was probably the one all the girls chased. There was a richness to that voice that surrounded him, and through one song, told him everything would be alright.

Daisuke couldn't chase Time Fly from his mind, especially not that voice.

He hadn't been lying when he told Satoshi he knew that man from somewhere. Maybe he had seen him in another band—impossible, they had admitted thy had just come down from Aomori—or maybe he had seen him walking around town once or twice. The feeling of having some deep connection was simultaneously reassuring and bothering him. The fact that he couldn't place where or how he had met him was even worse.

_Umbrella_ ended and Daisuke skipped back to the beginning.

Time Fly's next show was on Friday, and Daisuke knew that on that day, he would know exactly why the keyboardist was so familiar. But for now, he had one CD and a growing obsession that would not allow him to sleep.

* * *

Tsutomu handed the bass back to Kenji when he finished plucking out the line. "Try it like that." Everyone else was downstairs, playing cards with Masa in the basement apartment, but Tsutomu had pulled Kenji aside to catch him up with the changes that had been made at the studio rehearsal he had missed.

Kenji nodded, accepting his instrument from his position cross-legged on the floor, mimicking the altered line Tsutomu had suggested easily, then jotting it down as he understood it on the paper in front of him. Kenji nodded again, deciding that Tsutomu's version was both easier and flowed better with the rest of the song. "Thanks."

Tsutomu frowned, leaning back against the couch. "You would've known the changes if you had shown up to the studio, dumb-ass."

Kenji's expression went from calm to slightly peeved. "I was working." Tsutomu scoffed, still feigning annoyance at Kenji's absence the other day when he was already over it. "If I had come, you would not have made the changes."

Tsutomu smirked at that. Kenji's reasoning was flawless, reminding him of another he could never win an argument with. "So you're saying you playing hookey is more productive than practice?"

"Yes." Tsutomu tugged at one of the locks of hair that had fallen loose from Kenji's half-hearted bun over the course of the day, and Kenji swatted the hand away, still studying the sheets before him. Miffed at being ignored, Tsutomu stretched and leaned against Kenji, if only to annoy the older male even further.

"So how did you manage to get all those venues to want to hear us by yourself anyway?" Kenji didn't respond immediately, and Tsutomu peaked up at him curiously. Kenji continued to ignore him, so Tsutomu flicked one of his piercings. "Hey." Kenji covered his ear protectively, looking progressively more miffed. "C'mon, what's your secret?"

Kenji thought for a moment, then absently returned to editing the sheets. "I have my ways."

It wasn't the answer he was looking for, but Tsutomu left it at that, never mentioning once that he could see a hickey poking out from beneath the bassist's shirt.

* * *

Saga sent the e-mail, feeling a sense of pride that he had been able to gather up another list of targets in such a short period of time. His end of all this was anonymous, and to be honest, he was surprised that the recipient had not only read his first list, but acted on it quickly and successfully.

Of course, it was probably a lot less of the blind trust most of Keiji's associates had, and a lot more of taking an initial gamble and going from there. In this industry, it was not difficult to find out who was promiscuous and to what degree, and this information was proving to be very useful to the man he had been emailing.

As far as Saga was concerned, this was a private move of his that, hopefully, Dark would never learn of. Dark was stubborn and wanted to earn his claim for fame by his own right, but Saga knew very well that if Dark was working on his own, the road to success would be long and difficult.

Keiji's contributions hurt nothing and fixed everything, and the man he was working through now, didn't even knew he existed.

Saga's grin grew and he squirmed in his seat. Being sneaky was so much fun.

* * *

Running. He could remember running. He could not remember why he was running, or how he had gotten into such a heavily wooded area, or why such an intense feeling of terror and dread gripped his heart, stinging worse than his sore and tired legs with every beat of the freezing blood it forced through his veins.

But he could remember running.

There were shouts behind him. They sounded angry, and in the back of his mind, he knew he understood their words, but not now. Now, his mind could not interpret the syllables. He did not want to be here; he did not want them to catch him.

The underbrush scratched at his legs at every opportunity, adding to the pain shooting up them with every step. He was exhausted and confused and had the feeling he had been in this state for days, but he could not remember.

He simply could not remember.

He stumbled and fumbled—maybe on a root or a stone, he didn't know or bother to check—but corrected before what would have been yet another painful collision with the ground.

The voices were closer, louder, angrier.

His running came to a sudden stop against something warmer and softer than anything natural to this forest. Hands seized his arms, and he fought them, kicking and screaming for release.

A new voice reached his ears, frantic yet calming, speaking to him in words he could not understand. Slowly, the fight was leaving him as the runner's high wore off and the exhaustion began to take its toll. While this man held him still, trying to settle him down, others continued in the direction he had just come from. The man picked him up and held him close, hurrying towards flashing lights.

Shouts could still be heard in the distance, no matter how much the bustling of this new area tried to drown them out. There were loud, brief sounds he knew he should understand, but held no recognition for. But he knew there was nothing positive to be associated with it, and the ice in his heart became heavier with each startling noise.

His mind cleared little by little, and he could recognize the man who found him and currently tending to the various small wounds he had as a police officer—someone here to help, someone who he had needed for a long time. There were others here as well, and there were some slowly returning from the forest, but only this one bothered him for now. The officer smiled at him and asked him something he did not understand, only that his name was used at the end: Krad.

That's right, his mind supplied, Krad is my name.

"Where's my mom?" His voice was small, scared, seeking. In the far reaches of his mind, there was something wrong here. These weren't the words his mind was most familiar with. He should have understood everything that was being said around him, he should not be having so much trouble communicating.

But that part of his mind was not truly present here.

The officer frowned in apology and shook his head, trying to communicate that he did not understand.

Krad tried again. "Where's my brother? Where's my mom?" The officer only seemed to look more lost, Krad's voice only became louder, more desperate. These were the police; they were supposed to be able to help him. "Where's my mom!" If they were helpless, then who would save him?

Another officer stepped in, looking like he was thinking very hard. "Mom is no."

More people were returning from the forest now. Some were walking, some were being lead, some were limping, and some were pushing carts. Some of these carts held people; some of these carts held something concealed beneath sheets. And what was beneath those sheets looked very much to Krad like they could have been people.

One cart in particular passed him by, another one of those sheet-carts, but coming from beneath it was beautiful blond hair that Krad would never, ever mistake.

"Mom?" Krad jumped off the back of the police car, trying to reach her, but the officer held him back. He didn't understand why they wouldn't let them see her, he didn't understand why everyone looked so sad, he didn't understand why the person beneath the sheet was so still. "Mom!" He was screaming now, fighting against the officer once again, just as afraid as he had been just a few minutes ago in the woods. The officers were trying to speak to him, but he wouldn't even try to listen anymore. "Let me go! Mom! Mom!"

Strong arms wrapped around him, holding him close as the cart was loaded into the back of an ambulance and the doors shut with a finality that wracked him. "She's gone, Krad." Those arms held him even tighter, and Krad felt himself give way to the protective embrace of his father. "I'm sorry."

They stayed there for a moment, undisturbed by the remains of the carnage all around them. She was gone, and Krad knew she was never ever coming back.

"Where's my brother?" Krad's voice shook, afraid of the response his father had. Krad hadn't seen the boy return, and he hadn't seen a sheet that would have been the right size. In fact, the only two people he couldn't find were his brother and the one responsible for all this.

Krad's father buried his face in his son's shoulders. "You don't have a brother, Krad."

* * *

Satoshi awoke in the middle of the night to screaming. When it didn't die down immediately, he rose to check it out, donning his glasses before leaving his new room in curious silence. The various might staff members of the house were awake and uneasy, but not frantic, so Satoshi was able to assume there was no danger.

He followed the sounds of the screams to Krad's room, able to make them out now, but unable to make sense of what was happening. No, where's my mom, let go. All these words poured out of Krad's room, all in childish Japanese, and it confused Satoshi even more. Krad was an American, and even after months of living here still had trouble with the native language. That Krad would be having childish nightmares in his non-native tongue simply made no sense.

A few of the maids hung around the room patiently, as if awaiting an order, but politely ignoring the situation inside. The nonchalance of the maids gave Satoshi an uneasy feeling, as if something like this was completely normal and expected, even if it was unwelcome. The door was open, and Satoshi peeked in to find Krad thrashing about on the bed, held down by two of the more sturdy of the night staff.

A soft hand rested on Satoshi's shoulder and fear washed over him in pure instinct as he glanced up to see who was there. Krad's father—his new step-father, Hikari Yuuta—was there with all the calmness of the rest of the house, as if Krad's fit was nothing new to him. He gave Satoshi a gentle push and guided him back into the hall in silence, not angry at him for being there and so curious, and not upset at him for not leaving immediately, simply informing Satoshi that there was nothing more to be observed in the situation in a wordless manner.

The oppressive silence was more than Satoshi was ready to bare. "**Is Krad alright, Father?**"

The graying man looked down at him, deep sorrow lines creasing even further just ever-so slightly. "**It's just a nightmare, Satoshi. He'll be alright in the morning.**" Satoshi accepted this wordlessly as Krad's screams began to die down to nothing more than whimpers and groans. "**See? It's already over.**" The staff began to filter away, returning to their duties as curiosity and worry wore off, but Satoshi and Yuuta remained stationary for the time being.

Satoshi ventured carefully, delicately, hoping his curiosity would not be ill-taken. "**Can I ask what happened to her? Krad's mother?**"

Yuuta smiled, but Satoshi could see the sadness behind it. "**Follow me.**" And Satoshi did, down corridors he had yet to explore and passing through libraries and galleries he would normally stop and be impressed by, but that could be done at another date. Yuuta paused only to open a heavy, wooden door, and when it swung open, Satoshi was greeted with another gallery—no, more like a shrine dedicated to one woman.

She had long, beautiful blond hair that Satoshi could compare to Krad's, only hers was never tied back, but free to cascade around her slim shoulders. Her smiles were soft and tender, as if she had spent her entire life as a loving wife and mother, with pastel lips colored like Satoshi had only seen on delicate roses. Her face was angular like many other points of her thin, fragile form, and yet there was nothing harsh or judging in any of her features.

But what attracted Satoshi the most was her sapphire eyes, gently watching out for all the world before her, taking in all the beauty and never acknowledging the darkness. Even though all the images were calm, there was a quiet passion and determination to her, and it all stemmed from the power and nobility of those enchanting eyes.

Satoshi had the feeling he had seen her before, maybe in another painting or in passing several years ago.

"**This is Rio Hikari.**" _Is_. Never _was_. To Yuuta, she still existed here, loving and breathing as she once had, if only in a different form.

"**She's beautiful,**" Satoshi remarked quietly, not wanting to disturb the transient world contained in this singular room.

Yuuta smiled down at him, in much lighter spirits than he had been a moment ago. Just being here brought him a peace he had only known in one other place, in the arms of the only woman he had ever held the desire to call his wife. "**She's left this world, Satoshi. She was stolen from me thirteen years ago, but—**" Yuuta paused, running a hand down one of the many frames in reverence, looking at the image of his wife in a sundress directly in the eyes "**—I can always find her here, no matter how many years pass.**"

Satoshi stood patiently, waiting for Yuuta to continue and not knowing what he could say. Both Krad's resemblance to her and Yuuta's undying love were very apparent to him. That someone could remain so faithful to a single person, even after one being dead for so long, was one of the wonders Satoshi had a difficult time wrapping his mind around. It stole his words from him, and all he could do was witness the dedication before him.

"**Krad barely remembers her. He was so young when she passed.**"

"**He resembles her quite strongly.**"

Yuuta's smile drifted back to Satoshi, and Satoshi knew that he had said the right thing. "**I think so, too. Isn't it strange?**" There was nothing strange to Satoshi about family resemblance, and he understood all the genetics, but he had the feeling what was running through his mind and what Yuuta spoke of were completely different things. "**I can find her in someone ****who only has the most distant memories of her.**" Yuuta's gaze, which had only been general before, now settled on Satoshi absolutely, seeking something Satoshi didn't understand. "**Even you, Satoshi.**"

"**Me, sir?**"

Yuuta placed both hands on a desk behind him, observing Satoshi much in the same way Satoshi himself did for subjects he was about to paint, with an open mind and an open heart. "**You have her eyes.**" Satoshi looked away, knowing such a thing was impossible. The Hikari had only recently come from America, and Satoshi's whole life had been spent in Japan. If it had not been for the sincerity and care in Yuuta, Satoshi would have found the entire notion ridiculous. "**Don't be ashamed; it's just her way. I think she brought you to me on purpose, Satoshi.**"

Satoshi's attention returned to the multiple portraits, not seeing how Yuuta could see his hard and calculating eyes to be the same as the woman he held in such high regard. "**How so?**"

Yuuta remained patient, just as Rio would have liked him to be. There was so much for him to teach his new son, and he would do so gently. "**She wants to remind me that she has never left me, and so she brought me a boy with eyes that hold the same kindness and compassion as hers. So I would know I am not alone.**"

Satoshi's mind told him Yuuta was mistaken, that the man was simply looking for his lost love anywhere he could find it, but his heart could not allow him to vocalize such thoughts. He could not say that he was nothing like the woman he idolized so much, or that he was not deserving of such a comparison, or that he felt uncomfortable receiving such sentiments.

So all he could do was stand there, staring up at the image of what had once been a magnificent woman with such intensity, he did not notice Yuuta rise until the man had wrapped his arms around him.

"**I know you've been hurt before, Satoshi. I don't know what's happened to you or how bad it got, but I want you to know you are not your father, and you never have to be.**" Satoshi didn't understand. He didn't know how Yuuta knew these were the words he'd needed to hear or why he had said them. This confusion was something he had been feeling a lot of lately, and the only response his mind had was to cling to the things he did know. From all the information his mind held, there was one piece he felt Yuuta needed to know.

"**He is not my father.**" The admission was a weight lifted from him. Before, the phrase had been a silent mantra that ran through his head and kept him sane. There was no shared blood between the two, and to Satoshi, the knowledge of that fact had been everything.

"**Hmm?**"

Satoshi continued with the clinical detachment he had held before. Of course Yuuta couldn't have known. There had been no reason for Krad to reveal such information, when all Yuuta had needed to know was that there was a simple switching of custody taking place. "**Hiwatari is not my father. I was adopted.**"

Yuuta chuckled, breaking the embrace he had locked Satoshi into. "**That's good. I had a feeling you had come from much better blood than that.**"

The absolute confidence in Yuuta's voice stirred a curiosity in Satoshi. It was as if Yuuta were hiding something. "**Sir?**"

The change in subject was swift and efficient, but not abrupt or harsh. It was a signal that Yuuta did not wish to discuss the topic any further, and Satoshi knew the time for this conversation was over. "**Get some rest, Satoshi. You have school in the morning.**"

Satoshi complied easily with nothing more than a nod, and turned to leave the room. When he reached the door, he paused, choosing his wording carefully, delicately. "**I think I would like to paint a portrait of her someday.**"

Yuuta's demeanor softened even further. "**I think she would like that very much.**"

* * *

A/N: Like I said, fairly short. Just over 5 pages in my editor, but I think it's an interesting chapter. Everyone's piecing things together and struggling in their own ways. I wonder what will happen when everyone goes back to school tomorrow?

As always, reviews are loved and adored forever and ever!


	6. Week Two, Monday: A Triumphant Return

A/N: Wow, this time I managed not to take too much time. This chapter and the one previous were originally meant to be one chapter, but that's not how it turned out, is it?

Hey, you got a new chapter in less than five month's time. That's gotta count for something, yeah?

AND, no OC's! They... all took a break from my brain. I guess they're out sight-seeing or something. ... Yeah.

* * *

_"Tsugi wa Kouenji. Kouenji desu. O-deguchi wa migi-gawa desu."_

The train was crowded. It was always crowded. Krad didn't know if it was just this line, or if it was all the trains in Tokyo around this time of day, but the train was crowded. Everyday, he shoved his way onto the train, walking backwards and pushing to be able to get far enough in to let the doors close. More than once, he thought he had cracked a rib, or seen someone dislocate a shoulder, but that was the nature of the Chuu-Ou line during the morning rush.

Here, the Japanese either stared openly or avoided making eye-contact with anything other than the back directly in front of them. In one corner or another, some man would push back against the crowd to allow the elderly lady in the corner to be safe with room to breathe. There was no room to be able to do anything else.

Today, it seemed Satoshi fell into the group of staring Japanese, and Krad pretended not to notice until he caught Satoshi looking away hurriedly for the third time. This was just odd. "**Something wrong?**"

"**I was wondering**," Satoshi trailed off, trying to word what he wanted to say perfectly. Somehow, he seemed relieved that he had been caught. "**Could I ask something of a personal nature?**"

"**Like what?**"

"**Like**," Satoshi continued to tiptoe around what he had been wanting to ask since Krad had finally waken up that morning. "**How much you remember your mother?**"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Satoshi regretted it. Krad's expression had gone from light and curious to something sharp and harsh. There was a level of hurt and distrust Satoshi didn't understand. "**Why?**"

"**You had a nightmare last night,**" Satoshi began, trying to rectify the situation. It had been stupid of him to even ask in the first place. Just because he had been adopted into the Hikari family didn't mean he was entitled to know everything all at once. "**You called for her in your sleep. I was just wondering what you could have been dreaming about.**"

Krad sighed with a little more patience—just a little. 'Way to be a great brother, Krad. Your little brother finally asks you something and you snap at him.' He peaked down at Satoshi, who for all intents and purposes, didn't appear to be hurt by Krad's moodiness, but he had been wrong about that before. "**I don't**," Krad made a conscious effort to keep all irritation out of his voice. "**I can't remember her at all.**"

"**Oh.**"

Krad nearly rolled his eyes. Satoshi hadn't so much as glanced up at him. "**Thanks.**" That had certainly gotten the boy's attention, and Satoshi's eyes wandered back to Krad curiously. "**I didn't know I was still having those nightmares. I kinda just assumed they stopped.**"

The next stop was announced and both boys prepared to fight their way off the train.

"**Yeah.**"

* * *

Tsutomu slid easily down the steep slope of the riverbank. The motion was smooth and controlled, and he held some pride in that. Even though he had not had any proper training in months, his body remembered. His body remembered to keep level and even, and to react to even the slightest changes in terrain to keep him balanced and in complete control. The only practice he'd had in the past couple months had been wrestling around and showing off during performances.

He pulled the beanie on his head down a little further. He was back in his old neighborhood, and people knew him here. No, they knew the old him; they did know him now. They knew a happy-go-lucky teenager with more luck and ego than he knew what to do with. He had been crazy, charismatic, and reckless—someone very few people disliked.

Life had changed him. He had arrived in Aomori expecting to immediately set up a self-sustaining lifestyle that he would be comfortable with. He had splurged and drank and flirted that first week, spending almost all the money Saga had loaned him in the course of a week, figuring it would not be much longer until he was financially stable. He had thought his luck would have to be at least that strong.

Instead, he had arrived to Aomori in Winter, and the cold, and no one wishing to hire someone who couldn't even prove his identity. He had played guitar in the streets and slept under bridges and broke bread with the homeless in cardboard shanties. He had stolen food and clothing, no longer for fun, but to survive. He had defended himself against the more desperate, and learned when it was more appropriate to just run.

His luck had died. He had used up all of his karma saving himself from one mistake, and now he had to start from square one. In one lucky move, he had found a wallet, and decided it wouldn't kill him to drown his sorrows.

That night in the club, he had met Satomi. She was beautiful and kind and everything like the girls he had liked in his home town. So he reacted to her just as he had with all the girls back home. He sat with her, and talked with her. He drank with her and danced with her. He complimented her and seduced her. And by the end of the night, she had dragged him into her apartment and down onto her bed.

In the morning, she didn't tell him to leave, and he didn't make any moves to do so.

But also that night in the club, Ippei had watched him. Ippei watched a positively smashed Tsutomu make his way up to the stage and ask the keyboardist if he could cut in. The keyboardist had conceded, thinking he'd get a good laugh out of letting the tipsy man make a fool of himself, and only succeeded in making Ippei very impressed.

Tsutomu hadn't remembered that part of the night. All that had mattered to him was that he had found a place to stay and things could only go up from there.

And it had. Once he had an address, he found it much easier to find work, and when Satomi and he had grown tired of each other, Tsutomu had simply gone club hopping until he found another girl to take him home.

It hadn't taken Ippei much longer to find Tsutomu again. Life grew stable, and two months later, Saga gave him a call. Soon after, they were all on a van back to Tokyo.

Now, Tsutomu was back where it all had began. There were still ruts where Funabashi's tired had dug into the ground in an attempt to gain traction that night, and all the buildings were the same as they had ever been. Everything was just as he had left it, and Tsutomu himself was the only thing in the entire world that had changed.

A familiar blonde stumbled down the banks and Tsutomu was there to smirk at him when he landed on his face. "I keep telling you, Saga," he knelt to offer a hand to the fallen man, "You're never gonna be as awesome as me."

Saga grinned a maniac grin and accepted the hand. "Ya don't have to be awesome to go sliding into rivers." Saga was another thing Tsutomu noticed never changed, even from the time they were children. "'t's been a while, Dark! Lookit you, ya grew an old-man beard!"

Dark—his name before everything and nothing changed—pulled Saga to his feet easily. "It's a sexy goatee," Dark retorted, feigning hurt.

"Right." Saga stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared down into the river and they just remained there, two friends since before they could remember, seeing each other for the first time in forever, simply existing and watching the river flow. Beyond the banks, the world was waking up and preparing for the day, but here the sun shone down at two for whom nothing would ever be the same. "Why'd ya call me out here so early for, anyway?"

"This," Dark held out the familiar card at arm's length, and Saga hesitated to accept it. "Take it, Saga. Make sure the police get it." Saga didn't move, instead opting to stare down at the card and the hand holding it, procrastinating as an objection. "Hey, you're the one who told me it was safe to come back."

He had. That was how he had gotten Dark to come back in the first place. Now, Saga was beginning to regret it. He had wanted things to be like they had been before, even if they couldn't. He didn't want to launch them back into this mess all over again; he didn't want to have to watch Dark slip down that slippery slope in a panic again. "Dar—"

Dark's eyebrows inched just a little further down his nose. "Don't make me deliver it myself."

"Fine," Saga shot as he snatched the card out of his best friend's hand, and began to storm off to have the notice delivered before he had to be off to school. Then he stopped, knowing Dark hadn't so much as moved other than to bring his hand back to his side. "Dark." Saga took a deep breath, steeling himself. He couldn't tell him; it was not time yet. He had to do this. He had to make everything work, or things would just be worse for everyone. "Be careful, alright? I might not be able to save you next time."

"Don't worry." Saga turned just in time to catch one of Dark's old cocky smirks creep back on his face and suddenly, it was December again down by that river. "I won't let that bastard get that close twice."

_"Tonight I will take Whisper of the Winds_

_—The Amazing Phantom Thief"_

* * *

Daisuke sat in his desk waiting for class to start, chin resting in one hand while the other mindlessly recreated his English vocabulary for the week. Only a couple months ago, English had been impossible for him—he couldn't even remember what letters represented what sounds. Now, pronunciations were coming much more easily, and the definitions were sticking. A lot of it had to do with Krad being too lazy on some days to speak to him in Japanese, but even more of it had to do with the early morning study sessions Satoshi had been so apt to teach.

That had been months ago.

Now, their meetings in the morning were a lot less of Satoshi teaching him, and a lot more about the two of them simply hanging out before class. Most days, Daisuke chatted Satoshi's ear off, and the other was content to listen, but today, Daisuke was keeping the babbling down to a minimum. Instead, he was reduced to halfhearted conversation about mundane subjects neither boy cared much about.

So when Daisuke finally spaced out altogether, Satoshi took the initiative, shutting his book and setting it out of immediate reach on his desk. "Is there something bothering you, Niwa?"

"Huh?" Daisuke's chin popped off his hand as his mind was thrust back into alertness. "Oh, no, I'm alright. Just—" Daisuke's eyebrows gathered in thought and his mouth shut in the process.

How irking. "Just?" Satoshi prompted.

"Just," another false start. "It's just, Saehara said something about Harada the other day and I don't know what I think about it yet, or even if it's true or not."

"Harada-ane?" Daisuke's nod confirmed that he was indeed referring to the elder twin, Riku. "I'm afraid I can't be much help in this, since I haven't spoken with her since my transfer—" both boys knew there was no such thing "—but perhaps you could give me some details on the situation?"

Satoshi's eyebrows narrowed a hair as Daisuke's questioning expression morphed into one of guilt. "Well—"

"Big news!" Every head but Satoshi's turned to Saehara as he burst through the door. If Satoshi had any less restraint, he would have laid his face in one hand. Saehara had the worst timing. "The police have just received another notice from the Phantom Thief!"

Immediately the class was in an uproar and rumors began from the get-go. The thief was back, this was just a copy-cat, no no the police are trying to lure him out with a fake notice. Saehara gained his daily minute or so of popularity as he was bombarded with questions and requests for details, but Satoshi only watched silently, contemplating the implications of such an event. And after weighing the information carefully from every angle, he concluded that even Dark wasn't stupid enough to return when the police were starting to get desperate for any and all information regarding the identity of the Phantom Thief.

What Satoshi never saw was the dark look that crossed Daisuke's face as he sent a message to his mother regarding the imposter.

* * *

Daisuke stared down the corridor, waiting as patiently as he could for the thief to appear. He'd settled here behind a statue long before the police had shut down the building, and now all he had to do was wait, as he had been doing for the past couple hours. Either the person posing as his brother would appear and Daisuke would defeat him and take the targeted painting for good measure, or the man would never show and Daisuke would steal the work anyway.

Either way, the title of Phantom Thief could still belong to Dark, and Daisuke wouldn't have to worry about some imposter trying to besmirch his brother's name.

Further down the corridor, a rattling sound brought Daisuke to full alertness. The cover on an air vent was pulled away and a man dropped to the floor almost silently. Daisuke crouched, ready to attack when the opportunity came as the man stepped closer. The man moved easily and noiselessly, not visibly trying to hide his presence, but not trying to draw attention to himself either. It was as if he was at home avoiding the invisible lasers that triggered the alarms.

The man was dressed in close-fitting clothing that only whispered as he stepped down the hall. There was a small pouch at his hip, no doubt filled with tools Daisuke knew Dark would never need. There was a ski mask pulled over his face, and it made Daisuke frown; everyone knew the Phantom Thief was too vain and proud to hide his face.

Daisuke waited, not blinking as the man came within easy range, and still he waited. The perfect moment had yet to come; he could still get an even greater advantage. Daisuke's feet barely scuffed as he tensed the muscles in his legs, pushing back as if against a giant spring. The man passed in front of the statue.

Daisuke leapt forward, taking the man by surprise, and for a minute, Daisuke thought he would win. He had the man wrestled to the ground, when the man sprung forward, pinning Daisuke against a wall and slapping a hand over his mouth. The man shushed at him, and that only made Daisuke fight harder to break the hold.

The man sneered, almost growling at Daisuke in a harsh whisper. "Knock it off you idiot, or we'll both get caught."

The sound of footsteps alerted the man to the presence of a guard, and he pulled Daisuke down with him as he ducked behind the very statue Daisuke had been hiding behind before. Daisuke squirmed against the arm pinning his arms to his sides and bit down on the hand covering his mouth the moment he had any leeway.

The man hissed through his teeth, but sat perfectly still in wait for the guard to leave. When the guard had passed and was out of earshot, the man released Daisuke's arms and punched him across the back of the head. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Why are you impersonating the Phantom Thief?" Daisuke shot back in a furtive whisper.

"You dumb-ass, I am the Phantom Thief!" The man pulled back the mask, revealing the face of someone Daisuke had not seen in a long time.

Daisuke took a shaky breath as he stared into the dark eyes of his brother, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that there had never been any impersonator in the first place. "Dark?"

"No, I'm Masaki Aiba," Dark shot back sarcastically. "Of course it's me." There was a second of silence where's Dark's train of thought switched tracks and he shot a suspicious glance at Daisuke. "Does mom know you're here?" The few lights that had been left on for the guards shut off and Dark cursed. "Never mind. Stay close."

Daisuke followed Dark as closely as he could without steeping on his heels. The room containing the painting was a central room with three additional hallways connecting to it. There were many other pieces in the room, but the target, Whisper of the Winds, was obviously the centerpiece. With the power to the entire building out, Dark easily plucked the painting off the wall and slipped back to the hallway. Paying close attention to his surroundings Dark set the painting on the ground. "Help me get this frame off." Daisuke complied, ignoring Dark's unnecessary reminders for him to be careful. Soon, the work was freed, and Dark rolled it up and fed it back up the vent, then gave Daisuke a quick boost up the hole.

All that was left for the guards to find was the backing and the frame, and Dark was about to fix that.

"Dark!" Dark ignored Daisuke's warning as he whipped out a marker. He had originally opted for a knife, but decided the marker would be quicker. There was a commotion in the display room. "Dark, hurry up!"

"Shut up, I'm coming." with a few quick strokes, the message was complete and Dark lifted himself back into the vent easily and silently, leaving behind nothing but the frame, the backing, and a message Dark was sure the police chief would love: I'm back, The Amazing Phantom Thief.

* * *

Krad wandered into what had been recently referred to as the Upper Great Room, which basically translated to a living room upstairs. It hadn't even been that originally—just an empty, unused bedroom—but when preparations were being made for Satoshi to move in, Krad had the television system moved out of his own room into that one to act as a more neutral location for spacing out. This way, the game-playing could stay out of Krad's room, and neither boy could use the idiot box as an excuse to hole himself away as Krad was wont to do on his more pissy days.

Satoshi almost never used this room except when studying in the group, so when the first thing Krad noticed was Satoshi sitting there watching the television, he was mildly surprised. However, when he realized that what Satoshi was watching was the news—about those damn heists of all things—Krad had the mind to hit the boy across the head. "**Don't tell me you're into this Phantom shit, too.**"

Satoshi shrugged. He had only known the true identity of the thief by fluke, and he doubted Dark had been flaunting the information. He didn't expect Krad to know or understand, and even if he did, Satoshi didn't expect Krad to care. One of the things Daisuke had updated him about was the explosive end to Dark's and Krad's friendship as he had heard about it from Saga. Even if Krad knew Dark was the mastermind behind the heists, he doubted Krad would take any interest unless it was time to celebrate Dark's arrest.

Satoshi, however, saw it in a different light. It was no longer Satoshi being guilty by association, but watching Dark outwit Hiwatari at every turn. Even if Satoshi himself couldn't have these quiet victories, he wanted to see Dark have them.

Tonight, Dark had not let him down and Satoshi let a small smile cross his face.

"**I find it interesting.**"

He never turned to allow Krad to see it.

* * *

They exited by the air conditioners, where Dark pulled on a police suit over his clothes, paying the man standing by the vent no mind as he was ignored. Before he rose, Dark rolled the painting around his leg. When Dark stood, the guard turned, finally addressing him, and Daisuke recognized him as Funabashi. The bodyguard locked eyes with Daisuke, saying nothing.

"I know, I got it handled." Dark pulled out a pair of handcuffs, and Daisuke trusting him, allowed Dark to secure his arms behind his back. Together, Dark and Funabashi escorted Daisuke to the yellow tape, casually explaining to the officer there that they had found Daisuke sneaking around in the bushes. "Probably just another kid trying to get a look at that damn thief."

They passed easily and were able to walk past the police cars, out of the parking lot, and back to Saga's van without anyone so much as questioning them.

Once safely inside and moving, Dark exploded. "What the hell were you thinking? What would you have done if you got caught? I'm sure mom's just dieing to bust you out of jail in the middle of the night. What are you doing sneaking around the museum at night like that anyway? There's no way in hell you didn't know about the heist tonight!" Dark ran a hand down his face, murmuring into his palm as it crossed over his mouth in utter frustration. "Goddammit, Dai, I swear, you're worse than—" Dark looked up, directly into the face of Daisuke, whose eyes were tearing up and his bottom lip quivered. The face just pissed Dark off more. "If you think those damn puppy eyes work on me, then I'll tell you right now—"

Dark was cut off again, not by some stupid face, but by Daisuke suddenly wrapping his arms around his middle and burying his face in his chest. "You're back." And as Dark felt his chest growing wet where Daisuke's face was, he found all his anger slowly falling away. Daisuke's whole body was shaking as he tried to keep himself from sobbing, and all Dark could do was let out a quiet sigh and loosely lace his hands behind Daisuke's back as his little brother's voice reached a new octave. "You're really back."

"That's right, kid." Funabashi continued driving, Saga toyed with his laptop—quietly for once—, and something about it all felt more right than anything had felt in moths. Dark tilted his head back until it hit the metal wall behind him and relaxed for the first time since returning. "I'm back."

* * *

If nothing else, the mess of papers on Kei's desk had grown and if he were a less rational person, he would have accused his files of secretly mating when he wasn't looking, because he could not remember for the life of him how they had become so numerous. The battle for the tidiness of his office seemed to be a hopeless case as the files had left his desk and covered large areas of the floor. Even his secretary was wary to enter, and not just for the mess.

The entire Phantom Heists case was making him rather moody, and the more he buried himself in it, the less interested he was in maintaining positive relationships with the rest of the force.

Front and foremost on his mountain of papers was a single page of notebook paper scribbled on in Tanaka's handwriting. On it was a list of IP addresses that pointed nowhere—or rather, they pointed somewhere completely useless to him, such as one that seemed to be registered in Nigeria—, and two names: Hikari Satoshi and Mousy Dark.

Then, written neatly and circled next to that was the name that popped up when he had requested an audit of all the national databases: Yamazaki Tsutomu. With that name came a list of the few people he seemed to be in contact with, and his most recently recorded whereabouts, which did Kei absolutely no good, because the last location on the list was recorded back in December just a week after his suspect had gotten away.

Kei flipped the page over and read over the list of names again in frustration, and one name popped out at him, and it was a wonder he hadn't noticed it before.

Kei leaned back easily, letting himself relax for the first time that day, marveling on just how appropriate Mousy was as the name of his prey.

* * *

A/N: A little ominous, but I think most of my readers like it that way. I don't have much to chatter about today, but I'll continue with this: Who is left out of the loop and what will it mean?

I'll let you guys chew on that in the year it takes for me to release the next chapter.

(I'm just kidding. I really won't take a year. I promise.)

Reviews please?


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